Finding a way back to better paths.
Hello, reader. It’s been a while, and for reasons I’ll address.
This poem began as a few short lines subverting the state of mind I was in at the time of writing. I was tired of courting dreams only to find no space for realizing them. I was tired of running into walls, tired of mental somersaults. Tired of being tired. Writing these words didn’t solve the problems I found myself against, but it did reframe them. I’ll highlight just a few.
It’s truly obnoxious how easy it is to focus on the negative — to live in a scarcity mindset and see only the roadblocks to accomplishing everything on my all-too-long list of to-do’s. It’s far easier to live like this than see the abundance around. New sight is needed here. If I look within and see the scars of the years, they may very well bring old pains and hurts to mind. But if they do, they must also “remind of healing,” for the blood no longer flows. If my heart aches with the passing of time or a particular loss in my life, that keening reveals a love — a precious thing — that wants tending just as much as any surfacing sadness.
The young and adventurous soul in me would like to glorify and encourage itself with images of knighthood in this chaotic world, but perhaps it would be more appropriate to associate with the “weak [in need of] lifting up”; or at least to hold one image in each hand, and balance the two. Far from the stout picture of knighthood, I can still use my own “thrownness” — my experiences, my strengths, and yes, my weaknesses too — to lift others up. But I am also in need of being lifted myself and helped along by others who are strong where I lack.
Plug and play your own experiences as you read these lines.
The title itself here has been through a few changes, but I landed on “Breadcrumbs” because like Hansel and Grettel’s trail, these lines help me to better see where I’ve been. And that gives me a confidence in continuing forward.
I’ve avoided posting this piece here because I haven’t felt like it’s my best work. I’m deciding in the posting that that really doesn’t matter much. It represents a part of my story, and I think that’s enough.
I hope you enjoy, and that even just a piece of this might be a reminder — a breadcrumb — you can carry along on your way.
Originally published in the Agape Review.
Drink deep my soul: remember this For nourishing your shoots — That winter, not the springtime, is For deepening the roots; That scars remind of healing, And keening carries love; And knighthood is for kneeling, The weak for lifting up. The gold is proved by fire, And hope through darkest night. From waiting comes desire; From out the shadows, light. The phoenix rises from the ash To break her banking crust, And ours is an infinite path: Eternity from dust. Pick up your staff, take up your mat And bend your will to walk; And may flowers bloom in footsteps that You tread within the dark.