Coda

One day I set off in search of the sacred.

They said the way would be long & narrow
so I chose a thin path on the mountain.

But first I had to cross the meadow where 
I’d once watched lovers in the long grass.

Then the brook, with its ripple, hush,
its wet eyes that would dry in the sun.

When the air cooled, the path switched back over rock
so steep I’d break my neck if I slipped.

Crossing the log above the ravine
I dizzied, had to crawl the rest of the way.

Then I came to a chasm too narrow for my body
& I began to pray I would be able to go on 

without it. 

& so began my song.

Lynne Knight | Coda (II)
Contents | Mudlark No. 62 (2017)