
Awake My Heart
My heart
Awake
Is fresh and white
Fine and crisp like linen
Unfurled across an old oak table
At the table
It waits
To be fed and filled
With slow-cooked wisdom
And long-cured slices of life

Life cut
From core to skin
Then salted and preserved
In jars of listening so deep
Even their silence is heard
Heard around
The invisible edges
That line thought and breath
Refining the voice
Vanishing distractions and noise
~ Cheryl Murfin, along the Camino de Santiago
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