Yes, I asked for help, but. Stop.
I didn’t know for what I asked.
I cannot follow you through my garden—
except maybe once or twice, like a tour, to see landmarks I’ve forgotten.
I need to make my own way even if I have to crawl blindly
feeling my way with nose, knees and fingers.
It’s God’s guidance I want, partnered with earth.
This often comes when my eyes are closed,
and always when I am low—often on my knees—
willingly, or after a fall when I’ve nowhere left to turn.
Help me now by trusting I will find my way—
by resisting any desire to make it easier.
My blog poems are rough drafts.
Please respect my copyright.
If you quote, credit this page.
© 2019 Susan L. Chast