Often, what we’re looking for is very near at hand.
Sometimes I go about pitying myself,
and all the time I am being carried
on great winds across the sky.
— Ojibway saying
Sometimes I lose it like the keys
to the car, left in my jeans after that
long walk through the pines when I fell
into the marsh and the keys were all muddy,
caked in my pocket, then tossed in the wash-
ing machine. Then you called and there was
dinner and the bills. And I couldn’t find
them and felt that rush of loss as if I’d left
my heart out in the rain and it washed away.
How will I get anywhere? Where will I look
for my heart? It never really goes anywhere
just deeper within like a turtle pulling back
into its shell when I frighten it. Once afraid,
I carry my better self like a glass of water
balanced above my breath and startled,
I spill it, and try to gather it on the floor.
But once I’ve made my mess and tossed
the keys and lost my heart and spilled my
better self on everything, somehow then I
am brought back. Then I ache to simply
feel what I can’t understand. Then I watch
the rain and brush the mud from my eyes,
and laugh. The keys have been in my
pocket the whole time.
A Question to Walk With: Describe a time when you felt lost and describe how your refound your way.
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