Lost Sheep

Deep into the night, pass the witching hour. I sit in tranquill bliss. Nirvana. Silence befalls me. Nothing, not even a whisper in the wind. My mind is racing. Thoughts, ideas, memories; flow through my body like a surge of energy. Quiet. Breathe in. Breathe out. Calm the anxiety that brews within my soul. Hands flow with motion. The words flow freely as if my hands have a mind of its own. Free? Liberated? If I am to escape from this cursed shell I must die. But is this death I so willingly seek physical or spiritual? For what good am I dead? Have I not but one life to live? Am I not mortal? But of course I am. Thus this death I seek must be of something else. Enlightnment, if I dare say so myself. The material world is not what I seek nor desire. Wisdom. Understanding. Peace. Is that too much to ask? Lost are my thoughts. If so my soul dares to dream, it wanders far from reality. To a place I cannot follow. Only in my dreams do I see it. It seems that I might be lost. All alone I stand. But I know that there is a God out there who looks after me. So divine and pure. I dare not look upon his face for I am ashamed. For I, a mere mortal, am not worthy. Alas, he reaches out to me. A hand from heaven. A life line. A bouy to hang on to in stormy seas. Who am I to deserve this? Ah, now I know. I am his. For in times long ago, I gave myself to him. A pledge I made. An unbreakable vow. For this, he saves me. Oh, but how foolish I have been. I have rejected his out stretched hand too often. Thinking, I am strong enough to do it myself. I now realise I cannot. I am weak. So very, very weak. Now I know. My God is still there. He never left. Watching over me for ages he has been. Help me. Help me to find my calling. Fulfill your destiny.