Words from Pep Cleft of the Rock

Words from Pep

Cleft of the Rock

The climb was steep and randomly blocked by alders. Occasionally there was an erupting boulder covered with spongy yellow/grey lichen sitting heavily within the talus providing a respite, something to lean against, catch my wind, refill my lungs with the breath of life. From my canoe I had glassed the face of this cliff for some time before deciding on a route. Finally, reaching the top of the rock debris along the base of the cliff I stood overlooking the boreal forest below. A carpet of larch, spruce and pine stretched to the horizon. No towns, no roads, no human sign visible. Here and there a birch reached above its cone-bearing neighbors and spread its light green canopy to catch the sun. Each step upward brought freedom to my heart and love for life.

 Along with several black flies, I waited a few minutes for what feeble breeze there was to dry the sweat in my shirt, cool me off. Below, a thin ribbon called the Michipicoten River, my highway into this area, curved out of sight around the bluff to my left. Kinew (eagle) glided over its surface seeking carrion, anything that was easy pickings. I turned and looked upward into the ascending cleft of the rock that would lead me to the top. It was here I would put my faith.

All stones now gave way to near vertical solid granite. I reached upward taking hold of a slender root tracing a crack. With its help I placed the toe of my boot on a lip of stone and began my levitation to heaven. Behind me and above came the cry of Kinew, “Come up higher!” My spirit soared with her and I found a finger hold for another boost, and another, and another. Pressing my check against the stone I turned to look outward. I was unsecured, without tether, yet the higher I rose the more fear dissolved. Was I a fool?  A misstep and gravity will have its way. A diagonal fracture gave me confidence and upward I ascended. Soon the remaining face became smooth, polished. I reached as far as I could, feeling, searching for a way to finish the climb. At first there was nothing. Finally, between the tips of my fingers I barely caught hold of another rootlet and gently, inch-by-inch drew it into my palm. Slowly testing, I determined it was anchored up and over the edge. “Come up higher!” she cried again. Then, as if the root itself lifted me into the throne room of God, I found myself in the realm of spirits.

Kinew echoes the heart of our Father, a heart calling us to “Come up higher - into the Love.” From nowhere a refreshing current of wind blew past and was gone. Far below I could see my small craft on the shore of the Michipocoten. The “Cleft of the Rock” had led me safely upward. www.theteacherwithin.com

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ONE WORLD  -  ONE FAMILY OF MAN  -  ONE CREATOR OF ALL