Thursday, January 15, 2009

was it you?

that insistent
that resounded like a
dumping me out of
a warm snuggle
with my worries,
urging me down
the path,
stumbling through the shadows,
stubbing my toe
on all my doubts
scattered about like toys
i forgot to put away;

was it you?

doggedly shaking me
while i drowsed
in the shade of
the figments of my imagination,
dreaming of that day
when all my stereotypes
become self-fulfilled,
when all my suspicions
are confirmed by
my prejudices;

was it you?

taking me by the
pulling me out
of the safe waters
of the womb of my expectations,
persistently prodding and poking,
forging and framing
(focusing so hard on your task,
the tip of your tongue sticking
out of the corner of your mouth),
following the blueprints
sketched out by the Spirit;

it is you,
isn't it?

(c) 2008 Thom M. Shuman

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