Back and forth
it goes on.
A pendulum swings back
to an ancient phase until it sets for the unmade.
Here I stay, peeking where I’m not allowed to.
A hungry bear clawed at my face
so that I sit twitching and blinded.
I wish I knew why I am needed.
Even though I’m glad that I am.
I’ve been told to return home
by people who think they’re on the path
And I shall not hitchhike, I thought.
And for no directions, I shall ask.
For it will only add to my inquires
for towards me, I know,
they will only point their fingers at.
Here I go, spying where I’m not supposed to be
yet how did it come to this
that the one who is needed
sits bent with the burden of his own needs.
