Evermore

A searching soul on a daily pilgrimage,

seeking wisdom as a solitary, solemn

traveler, silent and open to all God

will give — what only God can give —

to those humbled before the truth

of His essentialness.  I stand

outside and consider creation,

astounded by this expanse I could fall 

into as I stare into a welcoming sky;

my soul pushes the limits of skin;

my ruach, my spirit, longs

to be free of this bone ship

that hefts me on the sea of 

human frailty, wrecks me on a shore 

where sin swells in cold waves 

that drown, but I am saved; 

the salt from the spray, a tingle on my lips, 

reminds me this struggle, this day

to day, is temporary; our souls will soar;

we will lift up on wings like eagles,

carried on the song of angels, past 

stars and moon and space

into His evermore.

—C.L. Fisher, May 2020

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