The Vulnerability of Open Space

 And you find your soul, and greatness has a defender. . .

From “People Like Us,” by Robert Bly

I claim to want to find my soul, yet today

and tomorrow stretch before me with minimal agenda.

Instead of joy, I feel fear. The vulnerability of open space

is like being on a treeless plain exposed to enemies

who come to do battle. 

Is this more true than I realize?

Are the enemies my own fears and longings

kept at bay by my busyness?

Outward silence and solitude don’t mean

I’m alone and quiet. There is a cacophony within;

I feel like the Gerasene demoniac. Legion is my name.

I want to find my soul. I want to be well. Down deep,

beneath the inner noise, I know this is true.

You have made me for greatness, for largeness,

for fullness of joy. Free me from the noise within me.

Let me hear the song you sing to my soul.

A Prayer of Longing and Contentment

I need no more, I have

everything I need. Contentment

is a blessing, a gift. Yet I want

to grow, to know you better, God,

and to know myself better too.

You are always with me, and I am

always with me, yet both shrouded

in mystery. I get distracted, but

deep down, the waters are still,

cool, and teeming with life.

I long to go there, to enter

the depths of my heart, and yours.

I want to know why tears come,

why the sight of clouds against

blue sky swells my heart, why the

touch of another lingers in my mind.

I want direction when I’m aimless.

I want to hear my soul sing.

Close to Water

What is it about water that soothes the anxious soul?

Sound, sparkle in sunlight, the rhythm of waves or current,

the concealment of what lies under. . .

Water wears many faces,

lives differently depending on location,

but woos and mesmerizes in its varied forms.

Rushing, undulating ocean waves,

singing, shimmering stream flowing through forest,

peaceful pond reflecting moonlight.

I am drawn to water, soaking in its call to calm, my soul

slaking its thirst for peace.

Is it the water in me that makes me feel at home,

at one with water in the world,

joined by our common nature?