I part the out thrusting branches
and come in beneath
the blessed and the blessing trees.
Though I am silent
there is singing around me.
Though I am dark
there is vision around me.
Though I am heavy
there is flight around me.
Hope is a thing with feathers that perches in the soul,
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all.
The soul should always stand ajar,
ready to welcome the ecstatic experience.