Irish Hills

aerial photography of rock next to water body

The life of the soul is not linear

but topographical—

time does not pass, it mounts

contours mimic visages, memories

of people and places

that belong to the one who says, “This is my land,”

I know how it was formed, which rivers are navigable,

where the crossings are—

how long it takes to get from A to B, and

how the light feels when it falls on hills, crests and rises…

This poem appears in my new book, Quiet Waters, and speaks to the inner landscape in each life that is so wonderful, storied and complex, but often under siege – in need.

Published by Dayna E. Mazzuca

Contemplative Christian Poet, Author & Speaker

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