When I am lost and confused,
helpless or ashamed,
I will go meet with the sages.
An imaginal figure, compiled
across time and place,
from the wisest I’ve encountered.
In a wood I meet them,
a half-dozen or so, gathered
in half-circle formation,
awaiting my approach.
I go to them,
a twisted mess
of confusion and shame.
I tell them
I am lost. Which path should I take through the wood?
They say nothing.
A still, smiling silence.
I catch them in the act:
subtly exchanging
glances
of shared amusement.
I wait,
unsure.
Still they smile
in amused silence,
’til I realize
they are waiting for me.
A flash of total absurdity,
horror.
Then the flood of love.
I rise and choose
a path in the wood
and the sages follow
in their amused, smiling silence.
