• Sez Kristiansen

The Sacred Place

I know

you've stood

on this cliff’s edge

for a while now,

the hard winds

weathering your veneer.

As you peel and crack,

pieces of you

grant sustenance

to the abyss below.

And even though

this feels like some

cruel endurance test,

you still brave the storm

that never seems to cease.

I know

you have lost precious

pieces of you,

hardened from the dryness

of these desiccating times,

hollowed out from the

relentlessness search

for hope.

And now de-shelled,

underbelly exposed,

you wait on this

fragile edge.

But while you tremble,

and the earth

dislodges your


remember these pieces

you think you are losing

are in fact

an unburdening.

Can you let go

to what you hold most dear

to discover the infallible preciousness

of who you really are?

Can you allow the earth

below your feet to fall away

and trust that

gentle gust or untethering gale

will take you to

more sacred places?

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