Signs

“Beyond the edge of the world there’s a space where emptiness and substance neatly overlap, where past and future form a continuous, endless loop. And, hovering about, there are signs no one has ever read, chords no one has ever heard.”

― Haruki Murakami

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I often trod

head down

intent merely on getting

I know not where

If I were just to raise my eyes

I would see signs

along the way

there is the old yellow jeep

a sign I have walked one mile

and it is time to turn and go home

there is the exhausted soul

a sign I have done enough

some signs I see and heed

some signs I see and ignore

but so many signs remain unseen

those divine signs

on the edge of the world

where sacred and secular overlap

and portentous choices are to be made

O Sacred one

slow my steps

raise my eyes

Aha!

there it is

there You are