And the step where the circle breaks and ends is terror
I am alone in the center
of self in isolation
Walking the path is a metaphor to hold onto today
Where was I born?
In the center? At the edge?
Did I leave the warmth of the womb and begin to wander into the wide winding reality?
Did I swim out to the edge and then see the desperate end of possibility, or simply a never ending circling out and away?
Today I stand (or crouch crying, huddled like an infant) at an extreme – but I am not sure which
Am I fully inside my being – alone here in the most secret place, or
Have I reached the point of negation, and become paralyzed on the edge of transcendence?
Where is there God? Where is there not God?
I am at a loss – swallowed by mystery