An uncharted river
A kind of madness – unable to walk
the same uncluttered aisles;
sit in the same designated pew,
hands folded quietly in your lap.
Your eccentricity hidden out of reverence
and because they wouldn’t understand.
You’ve dropped the things
you’re supposed to care about;
your interests few.
Old friends (who never really were)
have drifted away
while you have left behind
your loved ones, for their sake,
to go searching for the eternal connection.
You follow the flow of an uncharted river
as you push toward oblivion and wonder
when this latest rug will be pulled
out from under your feet.
O child of God, should it be surprising
that the new life is nothing like the old?