A Way Out of Wilderness

Bob Ambrose and Susan Richardson

Athens, Georgia

April 23, 2011

A remembrance and meditation

on Susan’s cross-country trek with her friend Thomas

while attending a professional workshop

at Lake Louise, December 2007.

When ice encrusts your goggles

and it's twenty five below

and paths are sealed in darkness

so there’s no clear way to go

there comes a time to drop the mask

to face the bitter wilderness

with inner strength, untested faith

in vulnerability to find a trace,

the faintest track to follow out.

Cross-country paths descend in snow

through Rocky Mountain wilderness

from Tea House trail to valley floor

where waits in tranquil purity

the lovely face of Lake Louise,

and halfway round its frozen shore

lies warmth, conviviality

the grand old lodge in season shines

faint beacon in the dwindling light

to adventure’s end and restful night.

Within the woods the way seems clear,

constricted choice can free the mind

to glide through worlds of majesty

and fill the silent snowy way

with joyful laughter, human song;

but time goes by and treks grow long

constraints close in as ways wind on,

and winding endless ways we take

with dimming faith

and lowered face

we press ahead

our eyes cast down

and only then

the narrow path

emerges into openness

a clearing wide in winter peace

we lift our heads to gathering grace

and pause in awe of open sky –

there are infinities undreamed among those evening stars

and crystalline visions too fragile for words,

mute jewels mark this a holy place

set in stillness, white on white

far from the lodge at Lake Louise.

On Canadian Rocky December trails

the days dim fast, and well too soon

our souls detect the definitive turn

of early evening when fading light

merges with night, and stars alone

cannot brighten a land gone stark

with a wall of woods all around and so

we hurry along to the farther side

to pick our pathway on and soon

we’ll speak of transcendence by crackling fire

at the hearth of the grand old lodge, but now

where is the pathway ahead, we can’t

find any pathway ahead, or back

where was that pathway back, it’s gone.

Concern takes hold as beauty grows cold

in deepening night when ways fall dark

and disappear from mortal sight,

a silent prison sealed in white.

While woods are lovely, dark and deep

when viewed from lodge or well-groomed path,

sometime in life will come a test

when woods turn into wilderness –

you stand exposed in trackless midst

where dark and deep oppress the soul

and lovely turns to creeping cold

it’s here where bold becomes once more

false memory from some life before

spent safe beside the hearthstone fire

that burns and brightens even now

in warmth, the lodge at Lake Louise.

As ice encrusts your goggles

it seeps into your heart

and time compresses tightly

in the frozen snowy white

no room for deep reflection

on the meaning of it all,

its icy heart, indifferent

to your choices and their toll

so brave the cold, embrace the pain

blue jewel of the night, and then

let it go and bend down low

with faith secure and focus pure

in God’s own time you just might find        

faint traces in the snow to choose

and follow on in willful trust,

determined hearts will find a way

led by the arms of God to life

or to the arms of God to lie,

it matters not, in wilderness

where faith clears paths to inner strength

makes safe a vulnerable soul.

Whence comes the faith to calm the heart

revealing pathways through the dark

to find resolve despite your doubt

to tamp the ground and take a step

then test again and take one more

in time to find the lights ahead

no longer lights of setting stars

but steady lights of distant lodge

the grand old lodge at Lake Louise.

A steady light still shines afar

through darkness into crippling doubt

sustaining souls through wilderness

for in its cold indifferent heart

will fear transform to grateful dance

to dawning life, a grant from God

who through dark paths prepares your heart

secure in vulnerability

wherein abides a humble strength

to let your stillness show the grace

reflecting hints of majesty

as snow-white peaks seen in the face

and placid depths of Lake Louise.

Years hence I’ll hold this blessed trek

with Thomas through the wilderness

in doubt and fear and final peace

more worthy than the warmest fire

by spacious hearth of grandest lodge.

From far away I’ll wander back

to ponder pathways in the night

and count myself the grateful lost

pursuing traces etched in white,

and reach that pathway’s end in time

forevermore as grateful found.