Wednesday, June 29, 2016

A seeker's confession p. 1

I am but a poor traveler
In the back alleys
behind dark taverns
after the end of festivities
I kept finding myself asking
What else is there?
And I didn't even know
what I was looking for
No matter how many taverns
I visited
No matter how many nights
of merriment I enjoyed.
I met other travelers
everyone of them a seeker
I watched them awhile
enthralled by the seeking
so I joined awhile
For years
I thought I was inadequate
because I could not name what I sought
When my lover slept
I would scrawl on her back
Are you what I seek?
I asked the same question
of every love I ever had
I asked the sunrise
and the desert moon
I asked the ocean
and the shore
I asked the stars
but they only spoke of the past
I asked the clouds
You who have seen everything
on the face of the Earth
Tell me, have you seen what I seek?
But they kept their lips sealed
When they parted
I asked the rain
You who recede to the lowest points
to quench the thirsty,
have you ever quenched the thirst
of the one I seek?

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