Finding the Lost Woman
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The feeling is familiar.It’s like eating a fine meal
without wearing a satin dress.
It’s like playing the unsung heroine
hiking to the heights
of this vision thing
that was sung into existence
by the uncaged.
Now is always the hardest time
to confess and be happy.
But I never believed
in the art of blindfolded atheists
where image is everything.
I believe that temples
take many forms. And I’ll
continue to slide down
miles of gravelly slopes
to step out, toe
by toe on thin ice
more often than not
so I can see
the lost woman
safely home.
