Slowly I am turning round and round like a Dervish
at the beginning of his whirling; my head is
far away from here in a land of neither
the living nor the dead; like a baby
bird too young to fly which has
fallen out of its nest; I chirp
and chirp for my missing
mother but no one
hears me not
even God
very tired
I am of all the babble
and the noise; I long for
silence more than you can imagine
in my mind’s eye I’m walking down
a long narrow canyon with steep red
stone walls; a walk through geological eons
but I have absolutely no idea where I am going
nor will I even venture a guess unlike all the bellowing
evangelists on every corner at least I am an honest mess
where did care free childhood go when everything made sense
simply because it felt right and for no other reason just joie
de vivre; I am praying that the spring will show me the way back home

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