I’ve been lost for so many years,
hidden in the recesses of the wilderness
and I don’t know which way is out.
I'm unsure of how to escape this listless, pointless path without direction,
without a propelling sense of purpose.
I once was utterly focused,
I wanted to be something,
make something of myself,
and now I don’t know where to turn,
to a person, to pen to paper, to God?
Is He really there for me?
I feel silly as I sit here and address
the benevolent being up above,
thanking Him for that which remains,
my blessings in life,
through my gratitude,
but all I can manage is to bawl and bawl,
tears helplessly fall,
and I cannot, for the life of me,
I don’t want to stop.
I desire change.
I ache for it,
I yearn for it,
a nowhere person I’ve been,
life is stagnant,
no longer flighty,
and I surmise pieces of my puzzle can be adjusted
one piece at a time,
but I am covered with soap suds,
my fingers slip,
I’m trying to unnecessarily cleanse while rebuilding a life.
How difficult must it be to isolate my innermost thoughts
when I struggle to comprehend them, let alone articulate them?
It's been suggested I search for Him up above,
to reconnect, to recreate
a bond of acceptance, gratitude, and I suppose
acceptance of His undying love,
but its been so long, how can I trust,
and place my life and sufferings into another’s open hands?
The tears continue to fall,
it’s ironic –
you’ll rarely see me cry.
© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay
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