My Abundant Life

hope in hurt

There have been creeping vines
ingrained in the gravel
that follows my feet.
My feet that tread
on a timed and unknown path.

The inky tendrils are scorched black
from the wounds inflicted
during my journey.
Through rough patches, lonely strides,
gained companionship
only to be left alone once again,
through hurtful deceit, harsh words,
through loss, hate, unloyalty, blame...
for being put here to walk alone...
and all the fears and ill treatment
one faces on their walk.

The black that coils through the stones
burns hot under my heels,
as I can still feel the heat
no matter how far or long I trod.
And as I look back, I see the same heat
scorch the grass bordering the gravel.

I have no visible path before me,
the heat that radiates from behind
is what I've base my next steps on.
My reaction to those I encounter,
my expectations of them
or of the next hill ahead;
all are tied into the black
that is woven from my singed scars.

Maybe the heat blinds me
from seeing things anew.
There are times where I want
to feel blooming buds
spring from the steps of my feet,
but nothing ever stays long enough to grow.
Eventually, they all are consumed by
the heat that never leaves and always follows.

Maybe the trailing threads
are the only guide I need.
For every bloom I created,
it fails to stay.
But perhaps that is from
my inability to learn,
and restless hope.
Hope that one day, I will form a bloom
that will withstand the heat
that radiates from behind.

But with every withered bud,
fuel is added to ignite
the writhing strands
that become out of hand;
the intense heat freeing itself
to burn past the bordering gravel.

But as I grow old with mind,
I hope I use my vines,
that are enriched in anguish,
to lead me to the cooling waters
where I can soothe my burning soles.

A/N: pic from WeHeartIt
10.11.2020