Celtic GloryPoetry

The Edge of the World

The Edge of the World

I  love the phrase, ‘on the edge of the world’. When I hear it I think of myself on a high cliff, arms raised heavenward, a breeze flowing through my hair, billowing my clothes out behind me. I’m lost in worship and entreaty before God.  One step forward and I feel as though I could walk right on up into heaven.  Instead the longing and entreaty is to pull heaven and the Kingdom down to earth.  It’s the place of the wild, abandoned warrior princess, the prophet, the worshipper, the handmaiden.  It’s also a solitary walk.

 

On the edge of the world

Where the place is thin

Heaven’s call is heard

To those who are listening

A path has been forged

By saints gone before

Their prayers lift us forward

To fulfil our call

 

On the edge of the world

I find myself listening

To the call from heaven

To the stirring of revelation

On the edge of the world

Where I'm in the thin place

The weight of peace heavy

I’m ready and wait