The Seeker (Poetry)

When I was young and life was going well
and everything seemed full of light and air
the future gleamed, as far as I could tell
with promise — free of worry, woe or care.

I had no need of gods — I didn’t pray
and rarely dreamed of angels round my bed.
I never thought that there might come a day
when I would seek for guidance — find my head

full of questions — doubting manmade lore
and searching for connections — some true sign
as key to what lies deep within the core
of every living thing — that spark divine.

My failing body’s old and pains me so
I grieve for youth — my heart long-broken now
and yet my spirit fights — has miles to go
refusing sleep it quests and won’t allow

me rest until I find which road to take
from all those half-glimpsed ways that wind unmapped.
No time to dither — just one choice to make
then set off hopeful down some ancient track.

And should I then discover who I am
and where I fit in this eternal maze
where shadows haunt me — whisper close at hand —
I’ll see the pattern of my nights and days

and recognise those energies that rise —
the ebb and flow within my drifting frame —
the power of the moon to charge the skies
and who to love by nature and by name.

For once I can identify that source —
the link between the past and what’s to come —
I’ll tune my soul to channel its bright force
and burn like flame to match the setting sun.