She gazed, transfixed with dread The path stretched on in hunger for eternity Although it had not turned its hunger upon her Despite its silence, its passive existence She heard the road like war drums Its rage was flame and steel She broke her gaze from the path And consulted the shaman The shaman, upon giving her earthen herbs, sent her to wander In the forest, where no path exists, she lost herself She heard a voice call out to her, “Resfeber…” The joys of life escaped her in the musty heat of dappled light The rains tore through the canopy, washing her fears away She began to lust for vision, for purpose The wandering filled her with a desire to know the unknown For all around her swelled the inescapable, the densely profound And she happened upon the path once more Its narrow vein was like the canal from a womb She stepped out upon it, tasting the freedom of escaping the shell She flew off, out into the storm Seeking the eye of truth Braving the harsh road For the narrow path leads only to heaven.
Hadn't really written a long poem since the end of July. I'd spent July doing 30/30 for Tupelo Press. Basically, I wrote 30 poems in thirty days. It changed my life in really important ways, many of them subtle. The confidence I gained has waned a little, but I'm trying to hold onto the lessons.