Morning call

Cool mornings of

Summer days,

Asking, beseeching for

Guidance, a glimmering

Wisdom to set me on

A path to my self

My role in this here

World. These

Connections I call

Home, fragile and

Tenuous, frayed.

The call goes out

And is met with

Birdsong, murmuring

Wind, soft prickle

On my skin.

This shall take time.

Time to hear, to

Respond, time to

Grow into that

Which

    comes.