H,
It has been a long time since I felt this far away from home. I do not know how I became so comfortable with being lost. It used to be that I could not go a day without it. Now I am in the most depraved cynicism that all the old bonds and foundations have begun to mean nothing. There is no sense of home in my heart anymore.
Yet, I am still very hungry. It is a cold wilderness and having no purpose means just surviving the elements. There is no poetry, no beauty, no ideal and certainly no peace. There is only machination and savagery and trying to get by on with the wits of personal schemes and party tricks. It is all smoke and mirrors and not thinking of anything because that is the real enemy. Thinking, dreaming, living up to something is death. All I want is all I want so I want nothing at all.
But, home is still a present part of my nightmares. The bad is only the mutated good and the dark is only the absence of light. In the poverty of my soul I can hear the riches of Elyon calling sweetly. The wilderness is only the sunken place away from home and every direction I walk in I am closer to the loving yearn we all come from.
Amen.