The Way

My place is at your feet lord
When they mock
Even my identity
Till I doubt  my being,
Like they want me to.

Confusing soul shattering aimlessness
Invalidated, invaded
I become a tight wadded
Ball of pain adrift through
A tumbling universe.

I wander inside
Round and round
Succubus spin
Of black hole merry go round
Contracting carousel
Of my syncopated
carnival mind.

And I find my place
At your feet Lord.

I may have lost sight
Poise, purpose,
I may despise
My reasons for existence
But I find my place still,
At thy base,
And it exists,
In the sanctuary
The sanctum sanctorum
Not of church or temple
But in inner Holiest
Of Holies,
Secret  still Waters
Of my wayward mind.

What I have lost
I regain
In tears
In memories
In hurts
In acceptance
They remain birdsong
Susurrating, 
Soothing bewilderment.

Aches resonate
My tryst with such harsh friends
Is lifelong
They're the anchor
I place my trust in them
My smile, softest buoyancy
Bails me out of
Tempestuous waves.

Lord accept my trust.

My Truth.

My Life.

My Faith.

In myself.

You have created me
In your dream image.
The ideal of perfection
Made reality.
You have shown me
The Holy Grail.
The Grace
Of believing...

I am,
Myself,
The way...

(c) Amrita Valan 2016