The path

After Psalm 25:1-10

Looking for a way, a path,

through this thicket of lies

and deception, I stumble,

often, and find dirt

and pieces of leaves

in my mouth, 

a tannic taste. 

Looking for a stream to wash,

to cleanse myself, I hear

its sound, a bubbling,

a rushing and falling

upon rocks and stones.

I find a path to the water.

I drink, deeply.

I hear them after me,

chasing, but they miss

the path and pass on. 

Here, by the stream,

is an upright stone,

chiseled. I touch 

the letters and words,

my fingers finding

the crevices of meaning,

of memory.

Photograph by Joan Oger via Unsplash. Used with permission.