Skimming Over Prairie Grass

What Calls to You When the Way Is Unclear?

Licensed under the Unsplash+ License; photo by Kamran Abdullayev

Not all roads are born of the same soil.
Some rise like a mist from the valley floor,
shadowed by cedar and willow,
while others break forth from the mountains,
carved by ice and wind.
Still, they converge, as rivers do,
toward the great and unknowable sea.

My own steps upon this twisting path
are bobs and bends in the waters,
fraught with the sharp edges of memory,
burdened by choices that press against my chest,
weighty as untold truths.

And yet, as my journey unfolds,
I am reminded: that we are but visitors here,
brief as the ember’s glow before it fades into ash,
transient as the hawk’s shadow
skimming over prairie grass.
Even then, there is meaning:
the star burning brightest above the horizon,
calling us forward.

Find the sign that kindles your longing,
the fire that turns the night sky into a map.
Walk toward it, through bramble and stone,
until the road gives way to silence
and the sky folds you into itself.

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This poem was inspired by the song “In the Morning” by FIELDS. As I listened to the song’s gentle, earthy tone and lyrics about finding your way through life, I reflected on our paths, choices, and the brief nature of our time. What calls to you when the way is unclear?

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As always, a huge THANK YOU for taking the time to read my poem. Without you, my voice would be a whisper just floating in the air.

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