What is the way and how shall we know it?
Are we doing anything except wandering?
How large are the circles of our journey?
Can you see my face through the glass?
Slowly everything unravels and what
Is unraveled is then revealed.
I do not wish to hide yet
Even part of ourselves
Remains hidden from
Conscious memory.
I have wandered endlessly in circles of
Mine own making. The path is worn well
Into the dirt. What discovery is to be made
From this place of known steps? How deeply
Must I look into the beatings of my heart? The
Home of my life and the life of my body all reside
Within this place. I am pleased and disappointed in how
All of this has come to be. How am I to deal with the ache
I feel at what has not been achieved? How much farther must
I push? What is there to push still at this point? What dawn
have
We been waiting for?
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