A little bit lost

Fresh snow stretches

interminably 

covering the floor of the woods

beyond sight

familiar landmarks

are blurred and gone

and I wander

a little bit lost

footprints

tell me who have gone this way before

some erratic and quick

a rabbit avoiding an owl perhaps

some more measured

a deer, looking for a bite to eat

a little bit lost

a look for nothing

and I miss nothing

I am attentive to the way

I have not consented to be lost

it has just happened

having no particular place to go I do not stride purposefully

I saunter

I stroll

going nowhere I do not miss a thing

I see
with sharpened clarity
what is real
who I really am
and how near God can be
when I have lost my way

sometimes it is good to leave the cow path
and wander into unpredictable territory  (thanks Barbara Brown Taylor)
for I find things in the wild wood
that I would never have discovered
if I had stayed on the path

God, you do some of your best work with me
when I am truly, seriously lost

perhaps I need and advanced course
in getting lost

and found