I’m in the wilderness.
Some kind of pilgrimage where I’m
left open to interpretation.
Here, a swamp. There’s a lull
No Sunday school.
I started to hallucinate.
Along came a fur-collared woman.
A pipe-sucking man. Some youth making
voluble noises. They asked for
an interpreter. Assailing,
expecting a serenade.
Which philosophy feels kin?
The one that says empty yourself of
everything? The one that says to
lose yourself is to find peace.
The sly one that holds
your truth, your love.
Prompt: There’re lots of people who are Christians. Christianity seems to be the fallback position. It holds a belief and that belief is key to the way one lives. I don’t think it holds the position that life is empty. If you aim to be a spiritual person without recourse to Christianity, then you may feel more akin to Eastern philosophy. In which case you would hold emptiness to have value, like a vase or a container. There is a pathway there too. In your poem, make some kind of value statement.