In Search of the Me

Who is this person I see?
A glance in the mirror
shows emerging signs of
mother’s face.
Where has the youth gone?
Fingers bent, swollen
out of place.
My grandmother’s hands.
Yet neither am I.
But the physical has
succumbed to the inevitable
heredity.

Who is this person I am?
Strong-willed yet so
unsure,
Determined yet hesitant.
Searching but not seeking,
with all my heart,
that which matters most.
Rough around the edges
as I have tried so hard
to mold my life into that which
only I wanted.
And so the dreams end?
No – I say no!
The dream has yet to begin –
to be imagined, nurtured,
as if a newborn life
blessed and broken
open wide;
given and shared.

Where is this person I long for?
Stuck on the path of hesitation,
not wanting to take a step
right or left
back or forward.
Planted with roots deeply set
in the quasi reality of now –
in a box of self-making
full of false image
tattered and torn
bruised and bleak.
O Joy, cannot I let you in?
Will I not see
your gentle power to
transform – to
beat down the barriers that
urge me to beware
vulnerability?

Wisdom of the Ages,
Guide my feet.
Urge, push, shove
me on the path,
any path,
on the journey of life –
life in you, with you, for you.
Transport my heart,
no not only my heart
but my spirit too
on the way of truth
that I may seek
with every fiber of my being
the way
that will only, at long last
find rest
and peace
and meaning
in the embrace of divine loving arms.
9 May 2006