I sit here on the edge overlooking the valley below,
I’m not quite sure if I should take up my pallet and walk.
The traveling has been hard and my body shows the scars,
the many miles that I have already gone.
How many trails have been traversed,
I cannot say, some were more twisted than others.
Faces have melded together in the silly putty of my mind.
They can be pulled and shaped as they pulled and shaped me.
Now, I stand here, looking across, seeking a sign,
wondering if I have already gone too far.
“What is done has been done”, the voice cries out,
“You can never go home”, as the child inside weeps.
The next steps are hard, stepping out onto the clouds,
it’s where my faith and doubt meet, like opposing armies.
My heart is a no man’s land of conflicting emotions,
as I peer into the murkiness that conceals the valley.
“The Lord is my shepherd”, trickles from my tongue,
yet, it’s the rod and the staff that drive me along.
Seeking peace in the words and phrases,
the soft noises of the deep forest that lies within.
“Do not fear”, the mists proclaim, rising upward,
to hold my soul on the journey ahead,
through the dark valley of my doubts and fears.