A Poem: Epiphany

A Poem: Epiphany

I walked a labyrinth in the woods today,
staring at the earth before my feet as I did,
stepping carefully over the thick, gray roots
snaking across my path.

And it came to me
that I, too, was of the earth,
as if formed of it,
like the Creation story where God breathes
into a fistful of clay,
and a man walks across
the soil that bore him,
of which he is made.

And the curves of the labyrinth
took me deep into my heart,
my spirit, my soul—
the breath of God in me
as I breathed steadily, in and out,
as I walked steadily,
slow step by slow step,
inward toward the center of the labyrinth,
the center of myself.

And when I reached it,
it was marked by the trunk of a tree,
growing up out of the earth
and reaching for the sky,
and at its base, a painted stone
with the word “Love” written on it.

And it came to me
that this was what propelled me
on my journey through life,
what made it possible for me
to appreciate the lumpy clay of my body,
to take heart and live soulfully:

the love my parents gave me as a child,
that my wife and children and siblings give me now,
that, because of them, I can give to others.

“Love is all you need,” says the song,
and while it may not be all,
it is food and drink for the soul,
the spirit,
and, I believe,
this body made of clay.