A poem by Tricia Bates Smith, 1-4-2024

I’m noticing something about change. 
New understanding has meant letting go of what I thought was real and true.

I stumble. 
I hide … better to be home alone.

Self-confidence is shattered. 
I no longer know what to say and to whom.

There is a place within me that has been patient for years 
as this self went out into the world to make something of itself.

Head time is over; those eyes did not truly see. 
New eyes are clearing. The voice of the heart is emerging.

Forced humility comes as a blessing. 
Not knowing is my strength. 

It is the means to quiet the head, 
for the gaze to look around and see that there are others here, present.

What do YOU think? What do YOU need? 
I don’t know, but I am here.

This was an assignment in my Seminary elective poetry class. The writing prompt was: can I be glad to be lost?