There are days when I question my gifts.
those things I know do not or will not come.
Frustrated I walk blindly down a path.
I know not my destination.
I gaze into a pool to interpret a direction.
The water is murky
I look to either side but brambles block the view.
I am trapped, lost from sight.
Fearful, I run blindly,
Tearing at the thorns.
Stirring up water,
Mixing in mud.
I achieve nothing but pain and continued frustration.
My hands hurt, my chest pounds.
I look closer.
The brambles protect me on either side.
Dangerous things cannot make their way through.
The water cannot retain my image.
I am not shown.
My mind empties.
The path leads on.
One foot in front of the other.
I am comforted and secure.
I am protected.
My mind rests, my soul rests.
In the quiet I rebuild.
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