Of Maps and Directions

I asked for an answer
And got it.  I was
Inside uncertainty, not
Knowing who I was or
Where I thought I
Was going, what
Do I do, who
Am I, I said to you -
And then my pen
Took flight and
Bore me up on its
Unfathomable wings its
Mysterious processes
And here I am
Regurgitating all things
On these pages that have
Astonished me with their
Unforseen force.  I merely
Bide my time here
On my bed and let
My pen do its own work.  

I am surprised at
What you say and
Ask you to forgive
My waywardness
That does not trust
Your map.  I am a
Doubting Thomas to
My life and yet I
Know I read the
Signs aright - in truth I have
Touched as well as
Seen your being.

And here I am your
New disciple inching
Forward with my blind-
Fold on, doing my
Best to see
Where I am going.

You are my heart and
At my heart live
These words that
Work their way out
On their own journey
Into light and eyes.

I speak and see through
Their activity and I
Hope I need not
Ask the way again,
For they comprise my
Being and your
Sight and in that
Combination of the twain
Is your
Map of my life
Holy City
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