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When you give up
asking for direction
rely instead on
guts reflection
letting blood
may leach strength
we give too much away
in hesitation
though long known truths
hang like skinned souls
making music
often I would like to ask
for a map
or braille
to guide me
where I fear to tread
fingers first, feel the weft
for the path is narrow
and lonely when
you reach highest point
over the world see
patterns becoming outcome
like rain nourishes earth into harvest
sun urges life to flourish
we who are willing
can know the answer to ourselves
stop still and feel within
the mystery of
foresight bidding

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