We Had to Pause

We Had to Pause

(“The Lord God is my strength. He will give me feet like a deer and make me leap along the high hills.” Habakkuk 3:19)

The pace slowed as the day grew longer,
the sprints stole our breath. We were ivy
learning to climb. Taught to keep time by
the beat of rushing headlines we were worn
out from
chasing deadlines that killed our wonder.

We had to pause.
We took meals cooked by campfire,
we drank streams slowly as we dissolved into
the slower tempo of mountain hikes.
We had to waves as faces became clearer
becoming fascinated by freckles, hairlines, and
cheeks streaked with mud. We wanted to
memorize the eyes that saw us, record the way
they translated stillness into passion.

We had to hear.
And that meant dismantling stadiums full of
applause, raiding the meadows to steal a
song so unrehearsed we finally felt human.
We were the lucky ones who happened to cry
when stumbling on sounds, when doves whispered
and babies cooed.

When our breath slowed we could listen between
the beats of our heart. When our feet hurt we learned
to stop and tell stories before the next bend on the trail.