A selection from Vagabonds and Sundries
I sat for a time
by the burning bush.
A naked child
among the harsh winds
yet, while the flames were high,
they gave no warmth.
I sat for a time
at the foot of the mountain
waiting for the prophet to descend,
in need of understanding
only to find, I wanted to live the truth
not receive it secondhand.
I sat for a time
outside of the tomb
waiting for love to be resurrected
that I might be healed.
Only to learn, what has passed
never returns exactly as it was.
I sat for a time
among monks draped in maroon and saffron robes
that I might understand my suffering
and come to terms with the nature of our existence.
Only to admit that I could not concede
life is meant to be pain.
All this I did that I might learn.
Yet am left knowing less now
than I did when I set out.
Coming to see,
that we need not seek.
We need only find those things
that help us remember.
