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.