Wandering, Lost, and Found (Or, Metanoia)

December 27, 2008
By Anonymous

Wandering, Lost, and Found (Or, Metanoia)

As my feet imprint the freshly fallen snow,
I think of days of yore, wondering if I have tread this path before.
“The way does look familiar,” I whisper to myself.
And I wonder, “Who before me here has dwelt?
What feet, beside mine own, have dinted this soft snow?
And to whom belong the bones that lie buried just below?”
I take another step, and then upon the wind,
I hear a fell, yet alluring voice, crying out to me:

“None but thou has tread this self-same path before,
though many have been found, washed upon its shore.
The road on which you walk is the path unto your doom,
and the time has long since passed for you to pass into the gloom.”
I blinked my eyes and shook my disbelieving head,
attempting to dissuade my heart, now filled with dread.

I saw before my eyes a cavern open wide,
and I tripped upon a stone as I tried to see inside.
Tired, wet, and cold, I lay there in the snow,
coveting the heat that -- in the cavern -- glowed.
I struggled then to crawl towards that deep abyss,
believing that its burning heat would finally bring me bliss.
But as I approached the brink, I thought, “Why do I go alone?”
So I turned around, intending to bring others to my new-found cavern home.

No sooner had I turned my head, then I stumbled once again,
and my newly broken ankle filled my entire self with pain.
I lay there, weeping, in the snow, broken, cold, alone,
and, as I wept, a soft and gentle warmth began to melt my heart of stone.
Once again I heard a voice, but this time it was kind,
speaking words of comfort, that soothed my troubled mind.

“Broken I have found you, but I want to make you whole.
Loneliness and cold afflict you; please, let me warm your lonely soul.”
His offer was appealing, and his warmth, it did not burn.
And I soon began to realize that for him my heart did yearn.
So I replied, “Good sir, I’m much obliged.
I give myself into your care, and I will travel by your side.”

As soon as I did speak these words, he knelt and touched my feet.
“Your ankle now is strong.” He spoke, and I believed.
“What is your name?” I asked, as he helped me once more to stand.
He smiled, then said simply, “I Am; I Am; I Am.”

The author's comments:
This poem springs forth from a veritable hodge-podge of inspiration. When I began writing the poem, I intended to write something reminiscent of "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost, but the poem took on a life of its own, going in a completely different direction. The poem contains a brief allusion to "The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers", directed by Peter Jackson, but soon finds itself fraught with biblical allegories. Christians will discover the stranger's identity in the last line, for they know that there is only one person who can claim "I AM" as His Name. Let the non-Christian reader take from the poem what he/she will.

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This article has 1 comment.

Kathleen E. said...
on Jan. 10 2009 at 5:37 pm
Overall, it was an enjoyable read. I did feel that some of the lines and phrases were awkward and forced, though. But I will tell you that I thought the closing was very powerful! This is a good poem, but I feel you can make it even better with some revision. :]


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