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  Bethany Powell

Published on: 1/14/2013
In Harmony with Ghosts

I have been up the thousand steps
Not for blessing, but to follow those before
Who maybe in earnest prayers, maybe flippant hope
Walked up these stairs since the temple was built four hundred years ago

There is something sacred in their footsteps and mine
On the same stone, though in such different shoes,
Just as the air by a pine is sacred with its bite
And the sound of a bell rings the heart, and is holy.

Let me walk up this way with no expectation
Just the dream of being part of this ancient place
Let my knees creak and thighs burn, and my breath
Rasp in my chest on that eight hundredth step, like yours.

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