Pilgrimage

by John Garmon

Conflicting weightless sojourner

In search of a stone altar
To receive my passionate hope
To be directed to a new place
Tomorrow

I wandered around
Until I found myself in weeds
In a littered vacant lot
Waking from a wino’s dream
On the surface of a new life

Sorrowful butterflies flew
Above my hung over head
In my irrelevancy
In a tempest of doubt
Far along from my birth

No one would recognize me
In this illogical bottleneck
Where I dream in successive
Waves of late realizations

I follow the next path
With motives not thought
Born into a world
Waiting to be found

© John Garmon 2014

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