Find Me

Find Me

(“The Lord God has told us what is right   and what he demands: ‘See that justice is done, let mercy be your first concern, and humbly obey your God.’” Micah 6:8)

Magnify the road we walk,
the uphill path across the i-beam shadows
of trees on the left and a stream on the right.
Do not journey alone on the path made for
more
than single file silence. The wordless ways
we speak are shared in breathless rhythms.

The early autumn recites the first frost
and so our hoods are pulled tightly overhead,
our fingers holed up inside our sweatshirt sleeves.
By noon we sweat, as autumn demands our attention
before ice replaces frost below the footprints we
lay down today.

Repeats of family hikes, reverie of first friends
wandering the hills, squandering the day, living
on coca cola and trail mix; hoping to see wildlife,
taking our time. We forget the days fade so quickly
come October’s dominance and sway.

Branches lie strewn on the forest floor, remnants
of life unattached. The decay begins the moment the
wind bends it beyond nature’s hinge; yet still it hides
life beneath its sundried core scattering at first movement
or light.

The writer is dim today, and longer than autumn should allow.
Joy with a handful, laughter unabashed and a trip to the
Grand Canyon
might swell the life he dropped on the way, tumbling along
the chalky cliff with orange gloves still waving from outcrops
between the cracks.

Too late to return and find it before darkness cover our tracks.

Find me merciful, please, though I’ve lost most of my companions.
Find me humble, still, but ready. Point me, and, though I do
not
recognize the way
I will still say, “Lead me”. But, on this
October day,
I’d prefer another who understand my solitude,
my silence and can cure me to the bold man I once knew
in May.