The road to awe is paved with this intent
A vision and a scene of your full extent
Placing the seed from the branch deep below
Testing your faith and just how far you will go
Through life times doors you often do clamor
The glamour the fame befits you with manners
Mirrored only by the World you know whole
Inhaling a breath from the stories you’re told
Climbing the tree with blisters swollen hands
Soon falling asleep on the softest broad branch
The veins of skin and the walls of bark
The hollow of feelings of scars left their mark
A quest through the sea for legends foretold
Accompanied by none touched by flaming sword
A fight by the night to cure a disease
Kneeling by bedside clasped hands pressed upon knees
The road to awe is not run with bright gold
It is rich with crimson and clear salty cold
Drawing you closer to conscious sweet shift
Counting the hours and seconds of life’s bliss.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
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