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How the Heart Forges
I wake—
each dawn
a slender promise
shoulders gilded,
by hesitant sun.
The world, wide as longing
real as the air I breathe—
crests of mountains waiting
horizons keeping their counsel.
My heart, uncertain…. ventures
like a melodic wind carried on—
searching for a sign
where wonder grows wild within.
Between the strums of my old guitar
and laughter in morning dew
I surrender:
each note of yesteryear
kindles today’s quiet lesson
A single osprey rises—
a brushstroke across blue morning
its wings folding around me.
The summit is not a distant peak—
but something brightening inside
Love lays a quiet hand
on places still becoming
healing as patient
as a meadow’s slow green showing
Each blade a testimony
to what endures.
From deep inside me,
between the first prayer
and the stillness after waking,
I find myself turning—
in the rhythm of becoming
the quiet rhyme
of being.
So I walk—
with songs for company
promises for courage
letting the day reveal its poem
one grateful step
where hunger and holiness
are the same ground.
Copyright ©
Daniel Henry Rodgers
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