Some beautiful paths can’t be discovered without getting lost. (Erol Ozan)
The directional app on my phone
remains mute, while the road twists
and my mind twists with it
into places where I am lost, again.
Memories explode bully-style inside
my brain synapses, creating panic.
No sound, but an arrow on my screen says
turn left at the next corner. I remember
the shop with the worn yellow sign.
And space in my head and heart opens.
I know to move through uncertainty.
Celebrate my detours. Consider
the possibility that others hide pain
behind strange, sour, surly behavior.
May peace be made from pieces,
one imperfect turn at a time.
published in For a Better World 2020
terrypetersen 