#138 of 365 – “underneath”

“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.

 

 

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About Blackbird

Poet, sculptor, 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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