Friday, July 26, 2019

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.

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