I am blessed in the struggle
poised in the moment of belief and dispair.
I seek and in the seeking return to myself over and over again.
I seek and in the moment of setting my thought
I brush up against the edge again.
I seek and am blessed in the seeking.
If I did not long, did not despair, did not mourn that which I did not know,
I would not be on this path,
carving footsteps out of fog to find my way.
The heartache is my lamppost and I am blessed.