The Search

My first stop was the doctor of philosophy.
Without a word, I dropped to my knees,
head bent and eyes closed.
I could feel his gaze on me
as he accessed my small form.
quickly, too quickly, a reply came.
I am sorry: I cannot help you.

Deflated, not defeated, I departed.
The parish priest was next.
This time, I lay prostrate at his feet,
face covered, eyes shut.
His mediation and prayer,
earnest, heartfelt, did nothing.
I quietly left his dominion.

Humans failing, I chose next the wind.
High upon the mountaintop, free,
blowing, I asked her.
Face upturned, hair flailing helplessly
I felt the touch of her hand,
soft, cold, wet, against my cheek.
yet soon, too soon, it was gone.
And I knew she could do nothing.

The same can be said of the river.
Winding, deep, treacherous,
her tendrils reached out to me.
Gently patting my hanging head
as I gazed into her mirroring pools.
Her waves tried to console me,
her waters tried to warm me.
I departed as the tide receded.

Feeling lost, I stopped at the oak tree.
Innumerable branches stretched out to me,
hoping to grasp my hand,
trying to pull me closer.
But I found them dry and decaying,
scratching my skin without trying,
killing, not giving, life,
offering neither joy nor fulfillment.

And so, I continued my journey.
Through the plains, to the desert,
over hills, and mountains, and snowy terrain.
I came upon a cave, cold, dank, dreary
Where nothing flourished
and I expected nothing but.
I sat, head bent, eyes closed,
shivering in the darkness.

Deflated and defeated, I slept soundly.
Breathing quietly, head still hanging
I felt a light, warm and alive.
Rays emanating, it captured my gaze
turned my face towards the halo,
shimmering and reflecting off the stones.
I sought it not, and thus,
no longer searching, it had found me.