Waxing poetic on thoughts, theory & the times
Summer solstice came
As my footfalls returned me here,
And with them,
a great sea-change,
Of my shelled heart,
a cracking
And from it grew,
Bloomed,
Burst forth a greater
Beating vessel,
Capable of holding more,
The conflicting emotions
And complexities of what can only come
For out-growing fear,
Of learning what to take away from lessons learned
From this recent venture home and round again;
This–my pilgrimage.
There should be clear answers
But there are not,
There ought to be specific directions,
Instructions in a manual of how to operate
This vessel,
In this life,
But there are not,
No “How to”,
to be in different modes,
Different states of being,
In times of joy and great despair,
Instead, one is left with hearsay,
Lessons,
from others who have traveled,
Down their own paths,
This wisdom shared to guide in the unknown;
Herein lay the hope:
There is no one right track,
No one right way to traverse
This path you tread,
You lead;
It is unpaved,
Meant to be worn by this very trek,
Thereby shaped by you.
She of Letters 