The Hills

Looking out over the forest.
No mention of God here,
but the trees speak
so well of themselves
that I can touch
and taste them.

In a darkened room
with my solitude.
No talk of spirits,
but I can almost hear
my breath
passing through the walls.

I am a creature of seeking,
but no matter how far I go,
and no matter how well I
understand the hills around my home,
when I lay down to sleep
I am forever the dweller
of a land unknown.

The God we speak of,
argue over, debate,
pays no heed to pretense.
In no way late or unknown
But living in each of our bones.

Every man has faith, and faith has but one fount.
Follow your heart before it took ill;
Set out among the trees, breath each others breath.
Rest in the unknown between the hills.

3 thoughts on “The Hills

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