The Mystic

She thinks in verse,
In a spectrum of iridescent hues,
Her wonderings and worryings,
Are as a mystic,
Learning her craft,
This is a long road
One she is both
Always and never
Alone,

The great awakenings she found
Were the shock
To the system,
The test,
The cure,
To sustain life,
To blossom the hidden bud,
Within her core,

She is learning everything
With new eyes,
A new mind,
A new love,
Appreciation,
Of life,
Of light

The Lost and Found

Find me,
I am lost!

Between the lines,
Buried in the pages,
Your words
Guide me back,
To sunlight
And sanity,
To direction
Of what is good
And what is home

I find myself
In this dizzying repetition
Of curiosity,
mystery,
intrigue,
confusion,
loss,
wholeness,

And at last, again
I am
Found.