Living the Dream

Come down from the mountain as Druids,
as dear shepherd prophets, Gods or goddesses,
but come bringing jars of jostling joy
to quench this thirst I have for knowing
love, dear love, come softly,
step upon down step, to where I lie
fading, like a flower in need of quenching.

Come down, from the light too bright,
or out of the shadows that swirl, hiding,
the face of faith’s bright moon from me. 
Talk tome in an ancient voice that lulls
the angst of tunnel-walking and wall-banging
because I have had no hands to guide me.

Come down, with your quiet power,
substance of solid bones and bent muscles
that will move me to follow you when you return.
These steps are long and tough to climb
Without knowing how easily you seeped
down from the mountain of your distress
to offer me hope in a clay chalice.

Tags: Peace Pleas, Poems //