The interior
Put away the road map.
You’ve reached the rim
of the interior – uncharted territory.
Echoes of travelers past
are all you have to guide you.
Hang up your boots.
Time to stop begging door to door.
The only footprints in the dust
have turned out to be your own.
But you should no longer be trying
to get from here to there. What you want
is to fade away where you stand,
the trek now a descent from head to heart
taken by someone you don’t even know.
O child of God, become footless
to one day become headless.
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