Or should I say prologue?
While
writing the series on Experiences of Mystery and Wonder, the process
triggered a memory of a poem I wrote back in 1985. It was during one of those
times in which I was having to "regroup" and "redirect" in
light of the harsh realities of life. It was long before I had an idea of
writing about mystery and wonder on a blog that did not yet exist. It also
illustrates the comfort gained by acceptance of mystery. I offer it, therefore,
as prologue and epilogue.
The Path
I took the noblest path,
and was betrayed.
I remained there until the wind in my hand
was my only direction.
The fabricated hangings of the known world
fell one by one.
But mystery is intact
And the Muse remains;
My oldest friends.
*
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