I am the wanderer,
hiking alone on mountain trails
winding through upstate New York.
Three miles in at Minnewaska State Park,
I’m about to turn back when
the trees part
to a wide-open view
suddenly, I’m breathing sky.
I stand on the edge,
wild hope breath
bringing oxygen to heart that pumps with
Scandalous Faith,
sending blood through veins dangerously
close to my surface,
nearly outside my body;
life tracks
winding through me.
I could fall so far right now
remind myself relax.
Run hands down sweaty
cheststomachhips
vessel that carried me here.
Legs, two mighty oaks,
root me to the ground.
I will not fall.
The lake below mirrors sky above
quilt of trees rolled out at my feet
birds swing past
full of life
endlessly celebrating as they
sing in uneven concert, pine incense arises
surrounded by unspeakable beauty
I so want to be a part of it,
and then I realize I am.