Odyssey
by Felicity Campbell



There was silence when the road
led far away from that
simple god high up above the sky.
We looked in far and difficult places,
edged by sharp-cliffed walls, then,
we pilgrims heard soft echoes
of old songs begin to summon us -
bouncing in jangles off the sterile stone.

We caught the cadences and whispered
some notes aloud, but thin psalms were
all that we could sing alone.
We took the random modes,
placing faith in their falling thus,
sometimes wondering in their patterns,
but more often subject to their whim;
for that was not defeat, but victory.
And we trust that what we are today
is not all that we can be.

We don't know the ending
of the song being sung,
but we know our god takes life in every line,
a rich psalm that sings itself
and blesses us with antiphonal unfolding.

And in the music of this song,
breathed in the quietest place,
let there be renewal
- of all our diverse strengths.

So that you, loved friend, best of us all,
may render your many verses
with vigorous timbre,
sweetened, tightened, true.