
The Call
It beckons in the blue of a morning’s hue softened by dew, and moody clouds, and a prayer to nature
to nurture my soul.
I lay in the grass and measure the light and the sight overcomes me.
I prefer mystery to clarity for there I see the depths of a soul shrouded in dark folds.
The colors, unseen by most, appear when you stay for a moment.
The errant line, the singular blur, occur to provide focus.
The shapes, the outlines, the rhythms that don’t rhyme when you look at them the first time, because you have to hear them, you know, for the pattern to show…
This is what happens when you let your breath slow and your mind to wander amongst the tips of hay breathing golden fire at the end of a summer’s day,
or when you close your eyes, and peer inside those crevices which fill you.
When you look askance, caught by the light, and the sight of the shadows pulls you in, you might see, at least momentarily, the ephemeral image of a world only dreamed, not yet seen, other than in your imagination.
This is the muse’s call.

Erika Burkhalter is a yogi, cat-mom, photographer, and lover of travel and nature, spreading her love and amazement for Mother Earth’s glories, one photo, poem or story at a time. (MS Neuropsychology, MA Yoga Studies).
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Poem and photos ©Erika Burkhalter. All rights reserved.






