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Young Minds of Medium Inspiration Call
Hurting feet tumble
Down a path hardly beaten,
As lost eyes gently sway
Over trees lining the horizon.
Shadows creep up behind me,
Condescending as if God-sent;
Paranormal, in a sense,
Terrifying in another.
But lead me into peril they will,
And pull me into the abyss,
As I walk under a punishing sun,
Stumbling and falling,
But never retiring.
The wind rustles the trees,
As the Earth under me shifts;
I am an outcast,
A welt on the face of the world.
I need to be home,
More than ever
But in its path lies
What can’t be defined.
But this is my quest
Over the ridges, I flee,
On the dunes, I roll,
Never losing myself, never tiring.
I will reach my home —
Soon, I will.
My home is waiting for me,
Wagging its tail,
Sporting flattened ears.
And when I touch it,
I will have fulfilled
My dire need to do so,
And my peace with God
Made in a tick.
For it gives me hope
To pilfer from the vile,
Inspiration to head back out
On another day,
Into peril.
