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Rated: E · Poetry · Spiritual · #1178204
Wondering.... is it wrong to ask for help with spiritual matters?
The crossroads reach behind me; open pathways that I never chose.
I stand staring into the darkness, heart heavy with dreams never dreamt.
And I see visions flash past with blurring speed;
My life slowed to a silent stillness around which
Swirls all of the good intentions never nurtured to fruition.

All at once I realize that no, I do not stand alone.
I feel fingers wrapped around my damp palms and I sigh.
In ways this reassurance only grinds the sand deeper into my wounds.
Wordless, faceless, meaningless… comfort turns in the face of truth
Into a cold wind that bites to my very core.

Why I ask? I do not find myself as I once was, dark and desolate.
And yet there is not much changed in this place;
The differences like butter on hot pavement,
Evaporating with record speed until only the stain is left behind.
The only memory hides in salty tears long forgotten.

Where to go from here? So much time already slipped
Into the nothingness of the past.
So much time already shed, the slick skin of my serpent.
How I remember scraping my tattered body to be rid of it;
And even now I can recall the itchiness of freshly born skin.

Unsure, unknowing….. how confused I find myself still.
Bending into the wind that comes unannounced, uninvited.
I yearn to understand the truth of it even now,
As I close my eyes and strive to find the lesson in this-
This moment of uncertainty that wraps into my soul.

So far this journey has been; and I realize that I have walked
Barefoot, miles upon miles atop broken glass.
Each step, each breath; taking into myself
The wisdom of those who come before me.
Stepping in the bloody steps blindly, stories still unrealized.

How do I stop without stumbling? In which direction must I turn?
The footsteps disappear into the mists that surround me,
And there is no clear path for me to take.
So savagely I fight to hold onto this small glimmer of hope,
So deeply ingrained is my desire to find myself in the night.

Who do I ask for help? What do I ask? And how??
At what point does it become unhealthy to step
Blindly in the path that the others have walked?
Can someone who understands stand beside me-
Or will their wisdom only send me in another unknown direction
From which I cannot return?

Is it too late to turn back
Back… to the crossroads that reach behind me.
And if I turn now, and face them once again,
Will I find myself in pieces scattered against the sky
Or will I find the truth of myself; finally.
The path ripped from my soul,
My feet making their own prints…..
Spiraling into the unknown of me.
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