Looking for wisdom

I walked out early
in the grey, moist light,
looking for wisdom.

Horses steamed in the fields,
lifting their heads to look as I passed by.
In their eyes a dignity,
the heritage of ancient herds remembered.

I pray for you to always have the dignity
of knowing who you are.

The rutted track grew soft and wet
until a mire of mud and water blocked the path.
I turned aside and wove a way through bush and bracken
till a new path came in sight.

I pray for you to have the courage that can trust in unknown routes and the inner compass that can lead your way.

Down a valley dark with trees I walked and my world
shrunk small in the gloom but when I looked
a stream was laughing at the lowest point and when I listened birdsong laced the lid of branches
holding back the sky.

I pray for you to overcome the fear of dark
and find delight in hidden treasures of the humbled heart.

Out on the hilltop where the air flowed free
I made a nest of old dead bracken where I lay,
dry and warm awaiting wisdom's fleeting call.
All around, the residue of seasons past
was sifting down to rich and pregnant soil.

I pray that as the gentle breeze of time
drifts each of us away from this, your moment,
you might, yet, make your future nest
in warm, dry legacies of friendship from across your years.

I walked out early
in the grey, moist light
looking for wisdom.

I came back
with a pocketful of memories instead.
I hope they might suffice.


(c) A McN
 
This was written for Bethany Mballa's dedication. I didn't know what I was going to write for her so I walked out into the woods, looking for wisdom.