Whispering Wyrd

I walk within the Sacred,
mountains rise like ancient cathedrals,
streams sing hymns through the stones,
and forests lift their green prayers to the sky.

Some seek peace in temples built by hands.
I find it in the soft wind against my skin,
in the deep speech of ravens circling above.

No one need explain the Sacred to me,
it lives in my breath and in the beating of the world.
Some truths dwell beyond all words.

I am embraced by holiness wherever I wander.
What room is there for fear
when even the night sky whispers its promise,
that light always breaks through,
as love forever kindles the heart.