Remnants of a Sacred Place: A Poem Written on a Walk

The old stone pillar I saw yesterday that inspired this poem.

Yesterday, I was on a walk along the lake near my house in Oconomowoc, Wisconsin and it was as if this old stone pillar quietly called out to me. There used to be a monastery up on the hill overlooking the lake but it was torn down many years ago and all that remains are little remnants here and there on the land, including this pillar. I have walked by it and seen it countless times before but yesterday it seemed to want a poem written about it. So, I began writing what came to me on my phone and as I continued walking, more words slowly came. By the time I got home, there was a almost a complete poem. I let it rest until this morning and revisited it and the feelings I had yesterday and the poem completed itself, at least for now.

Remnants of a Sacred Place

by Emma Freeman

A lonely stone pillar

stoically stands amidst trees and weeds

on the edge of the lake

a piece of monastic history left

or forgotten

part of a boundary

a declaration to the world

that you were entering sacred territory

A quiet place on top of a hill

for introspection and contemplation

Now, big houses silently stand

where devoted people once silently sat

and I wonder if the rooms glimpsed

through curtained windows

might also be sacred spaces

on top of a hill

for those who live inside

Perhaps the whispers of old intentions

flow through the air they breathe

and they find themselves in deep pauses

reflecting on their lives

faithful to their beliefs

so they have solid certainty to stand on

hoping they are good enough

worthy enough of love...