Now Past the Middle of My Life

 Now past the middle of my life,
I wake within early morning
To realize I am lost, cannot tell
Whether I am walking north or south.
No longer can I find a path,
So deeply immersed in dark tangled woods.
Do I simply trudge ahead upon the path I’m on?
I look around and see so many ways,
The more I walk, the more I find I’m lost.
 
Do rustling trees know where I am?
  How do birds that fly find highest branch?
No two branches are the same
To sparrow flying through
Silence of early morning light.
 
The world senses where I am.
I stop to hear its vibrant voice.
Pray tell, O flying birds….
Pray tell, Great tangled wood,
Pray tell, Pure running stream
Where I can find myself this morning hour.

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