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Crested Butte, Colorado, August 2018. Copyright © Michael D. Warden. All Rights Reserved.


To know your true path

you must listen

all the way through

to the other side of everything

that is trying to speak to you

you must listen

as you would the call

of a single bird

in a forest of machinery

as you would to a river

when it captures you

and no one else is there

to hear it

as you would to the rhythm

of your lover's quiet breathing

as they lie sleeping next to you

in the dark

When you find it

if you find it

if you can pluck it

out of the madness

of your ordinary days

Fall, then, to your knees


and give it everything

everything you've carried

everything you've pretended

everyone you've loved

or been loved by

lay it all down

in gentle surrender

to the Beckoning Call

Then, tomorrow, do it again

and the next day, again

and the next

believing, believing

all the way to the horizon

until you become

that Song

that River

that Breath of Life

you already were all along

You'll see then

in those waking hours

what all true mystics know

This is how we heal the world

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