Damascus Road

The way I've walked, this path of Saul,

So often been just stuttered stall,

Could be a dance, the shuffled steps,

With feet that flew, and pace that crept.

The heart may scream to break and run,

Yet still the flesh is deaf and dumb.

For all the lives of good intent

Life's more than motives and defense.

Still, there's no fix to stumbling gate

In ever turning back a gaze

To gret or re the path behind.

I cannot dig and also climb.

Yet, balance lies 'tween care and not,

Tween base neglect and overwrought.

The letting go is not the same

As living on 'thout any shame.

I do not have the means to bind

All wounds I've given in my time,

But feel I must at least attempt

To learn a bit, not wound again.