Soaked from the rain of anxious madness,
I turn a stumbling corner,
And uncover an empty path.
The unmaterial spirit that surrounds my being
takes my lonely, and tells
me to wander.
I want to tell it that I know not what it wants of me,
I know nothing about this path.
I experience a fleeting sense of warmth,
and direction,
and understand that I need not know anything.
The mysterious spirit will fill me.
Hand in hand, we hike.
It shows me all of earth.
We hike through past centuries,
through trees, through glorified flowers
that grow on the graves of the risen.
We walk through hunger and sorrow,
through joy and excitement,
through pride and fulfillment.
Together we cry
the spirit and I,
in awe.
The further we go,
The less I am able to tell the difference between
the powerful spirit and myself.
A love so powerful
encompases all of my senses,
we move onward with
strong conviction.
We come to a stop,
and a joyful understanding
that there exists nothing
but blind love.
And with that I shed
all wordly perceptions of self,
and wander, one with the spirit,
into the clouds.