#138 of 365 – “underneath”



with uncertainty I walk an empty street

in rags and bare feet,


having lost my fancy clothes and shoes

and with them my conceit.


I’ve been cast out by broken behavior

and gifts I sought to maltreat,


with conceptions I have clung to

that are rusty and obsolete,


and a self-centered unworthiness

that is growing old and weak.


forced to walk in meditation

til’ my darkness falls in defeat


I bring a prayer so timid

it’s not quite on my breath, but underneath,


and a tiny seed of trust

I’m trying to nurture into belief.



About Blackbird

Poet, sculptor, jewelry maker, writer, spouse, parent, crazy person - not necessarily in that order.
This entry was posted in Belief, Change, Poetry, Recovery and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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