She marches into the world
A raw nerve
Spilling truth to inspire
Other arms of her being
To let down their masks
And see oneness.
In elaborate play,
With illusions of company.
Maybe one day
Our arms will retract.
Disillusionment is the gatekeeper to clarity,
Pay a toll of the lies that once clothed you.
Naked on a new frontier, sandy winds whip raw flesh.
Remember the hearth you emerged from,
Momentarily forgetting the eventual iciness that repelled you.
Which way to go from here,
When knowledge you leaned on collapses
And all that remains is horizon?
You can forge new meaning
Or curl up like the fetus you are again,
Beg the earth to swallow you.
Suppose you choose to pioneer.
Which way will you go from here?