would that I had known

How foolish, tired and worn
in mind, and heart and bone
I found myself strapped,
poorly prepped and mussed
on a journey
too much rushed.
No one bent their ear so
a hole I dug – myself –
forth with and placed my goal.
Leaving there a soul in
darkness grasped – clung to –
much like rotted dung.
Ashes choked my tongue
where bitter bile did ooze
and jagged marks
compete with depression’s
blue and black waves.

A swift purple dash
stokes across the sky.
As days light fades,
traces of cheery swallows
flit about, lifting
me from  misery.
Their wings taunt
my spirits forward to a
warmly glowing sunset, where
burnished orange, braces
the slant of grey clouds.
On the morrow this glorious
orb will rise once more;
as must I – to face again
a casket void of talent.
Would that I had known this
journey would be harder.

Then the Son’s amber
golden eyes, reflect rays
of grandeur and treacle
in two words –
“Trust! Me!”  And
Promises to take me
– on Farther –
through my sisters
and my brother.
Thus illumined
in Paschal light
let the Spirit’s pall
carry me on a carpet
according to His Will.

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