Standing at the edge of the precipice, and feeling the humid air passing through my receding hairline, the gulf between the once known and the unknowable has grown to the point where the possibility of being swallowed up in it seems more than just a possibility now.
Most of the past was couched in a certainty that tomorrow was soon enough to compensate for yesterday and today… well today I knew where I was going, at least I thought I did. Somehow in the hours between those yesterday’s and today’s tomorrow’s the road to the future disappeared and I find myself at an intersection, no, not an intersection more like a rotary and the disturbing part of this rotary is the road I entered from is no longer there, what’s more disturbing is I can’t seem to find an exit out of the rotary either.
Where does one go when you can’t see a way, you can’t find a path or every door seems to be shut. The longer I stay here the more confounded I become, I can see the road I came on and yet the road stops suddenly no longer is the road ahead the place I knew I should travel. I think there must be somewhere I am supposed to go, surely the direction is there, knowable, just within reach. Yet I grope, hands outstretched before me swaying side to side, in hope of finding something solid in which to lay purchase to.
Those around me have delivered all the cliché’s, they have explained the nature of my desert and the art of waiting. I have received all the well wishes and the thoughts and prayers. I have journeyed to the scripture and various written word. I have been humbled with Job and his friends. There is no bitterness and yet still it lays there palatable on my tongue like a bad aftertaste the sense that perhaps I have lost my way, perhaps the road went straight ahead, while I veered to the right.