I look at the sky,

reading between the clouds –

what was, what wasn’t,

what could have been so vivid, so clear,

what could have been – if only.

I look at the earth, –

reading by the traces

of those who plucked flowers in this field

and carried them to those

who keep them in their souls,

tucked close, almost like God.

I look at the forest, –

reading between the trunks,

the great light or the small.

We are inspired already

by the fact that, lost in that forest,

we can find one single path.

And I look within –

reading between the lines,

and see that every path,

every mistake and every discovery

weaves together into one motion,

which can be called – life.

I look around, –

reading without end,

and it seems that all this reading,

all this understanding,

all this attention to the world

is itself a prayer,

a breath, a step,

a path leading to something

that may explain so much to me...

Through sky, through earth, through forest,

through the depths of self and world,

a thread runs clear,

a silver line of light,

pulling me onward,

pulling me closer

to the meaning behind it all.

And still I read –

between clouds, between trees,

within myself and all around,

and it feels like every breath,

every glance, every step

is a prayer, a path,

leading me to the light...

leading me to the light.