I see now, it’s become a spiral stair.

That was wide open once, everyone together

Rushing up to meet the golden world.

Aglow with their eagerness.

Yet one by one

They moved by me,

They moved around me

As I wandered off to a side.

I wanted to stand still & watch

The people heading by.

Sometimes I’d be joined in a swirl

Of like-thinkers for a while.

We’d connect in a literal 12-step program;

at 13, parting ways.

Most times, tho, I climbed along

An edge, over there, into where.


Not by choice,

But growing weary of departures.

That’s where the spiral stair began.

An idea “you’re better alone, at this point.”

That only fits one at a time.

I was unquestioning.

I notice now the tower around me

That when I emerge, I cross bridges.


My grief is not in my lungs, it’s migrated to my heart,

swollen with sorrows

not even my own.

I am annoyed to have to pay attention.

I am not sickly; my scars are well-earned…

Reminders & I stayed on a good path.

I did well when I remembered to

Search for these with my heart-compass Guide.

She tells me now to let go of it all, to go for the best

Which I can expect since my expectations will fuel nothing less.

I reach again Critical Mass.


When it is time for Ritual, I test a chord in my solar plexus

If it says, “Go fill up.”

I leave the dry sand I’ve been shaping

where it is.

I turn towards outside in degrees

longingly, almost fearful from being In.

One word can set you on a path of looking through

The Window at yourself, instead of staring out.

Now you are in the Ritual world

Where shelter is reversed from your norm

Where you are a little less plugged in all the time

Since it’s so much more meaningful to be unplugged.


I am sifting, seeking whole pieces

Here there is one, a spotted memory for

My back pocket.

Who cares if it’s not mine?

Life can get curious enough, but can

Never satisfy our Curiosity.


I have overcome fear for long periods of elation

Especially in traveling the road.

I auto-resumed balance

While here, on land, I am off-footed.

I would know my chart

To see if this streaking comet

Of self-worth & reassurance soon arrives:

To know to stand with my arms wide open

In welcome.

I just found prayer is the remote, pushed the button

To jump-start my transformation.

It is begun.

Now I need take my bearings

For the center of me,

The spirit core, the one who knows

Where they keep the wings.

Angels fly because they can?

What’s to stop me then?

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