fbpx
Poetry

Crossroads

There’s a fire deep within my soul, causing a burning sensation I just cannot let go. What must this mean? I do not know. The feeling is coming from a depth within. Center of my chest where my heart lies feels light and hollow – but not in the disturbing, numbing sense of repressed emotion – but in a sense as if I let something troubling go.

I walk a path less traveled, and along this path are dark shadows of neither certainty nor clarity. I wonder, as I pass these shadows, what they mean, what they are and what their purpose is on my quest. Sometimes I look briefly at an unclear shadow, but it dissolves and wisps away in silent grace. Sometimes I hear a hissing whisper say, “This is your destiny, I am your destiny, look at me!” but I do not turn my head at the trickster, for my intuition is strong.

I walk the path, within the dead of an endless night, and upon this path my footsteps are not steady, and the vision before me is unclear.

Suddenly a quiet, distant, presence is felt behind me. I hear the soft footsteps of one being with two feet, and in even greater distance the faint pitter-patter of four paws, maybe belonging to a dog, are also heard.

I stop in my tracks, but feel no fear, only a peaceful calm. I know I am safe on this path I walk. As I stop, the steps behind me stop as well. Stillness is in the air.

I look over my left shoulder to see what is behind me. As I look, nothing is seen, only a faint, pale, gently walked path, with a small crescent new moon above it, dimly lighting the sky, but not lighting my path. I look over my right shoulder, taking a different angle, a different perspective, and still nothing is seen. I shrug and continue walking, now, steadily forward. The footsteps of both creatures – possible human, and possible a dog – are once again faintly heard. I pay no mind to the steps, for they are not crowding close behind me, they are not invading my personal space, they are only there.

I walk, and walk, and walk some more. My path has been smooth to the soles of my bare feet, no inanimate object within my way so far, but suddenly the terrain changes. I feel smooth pebbles beneath my feet, almost like they are massaging my tired soles. I take note of the change, but do not stop to ponder. My dark path suddenly is dimly lit from a light coming over my left shoulder. I stop and glance behind my shoulder once more. This time I see a hooded figure holding a lantern, which is the cause of the dim light upon my path. I see behind this figure an outline of three heads, which must belong to the dog I envisioned previously. I know immediately, now, what this means: Goddess Hecate is with me.

I begin walking, once again, with no fear. I only took a few steps before a clearing is seen, which is now dimly lit, not only by the lantern Hecate is holding, but also by the crescent moon that is now closer to the earth than before. Dawn will soon break.

As I move to the center of the clearing I notice three paths before me. I am now at a crossroads. With relation to Hecate, I know one is my past, the other my present, and the last my future. But which is which? I do not know. I only must choose a path to walk. I can either continue straight, or detour off the path I am on by choosing a new angle, perspective and path. I stop and ponder my choices

I have let go and conquered much of what I have held on for so long from my past, and I no longer look too far into the future. I frequently find myself only in the present time, and nowhere else in between. It does not take me long to decide the path to walk: I decided to continue forward, the path I’ve been on for many months now, instead of detouring off this path I’m on.

I continue straight, and as I walk, and walk, and walk, dawn does break. The sky goes from a midnight blue, to deep violet, to red-violet, to reddish hue, to red-orange, to orange, to yellow-orange, to a grayish hue… then a clear blue sky. The light of the sun is now on my path, but the vision is too bright, I can not see what is before me, the enlightening light is too bright for clarity.

A bench appears upon my path. I sit to rest a while, enjoying the light I can now look into with eyes wide open. My vision is yet to be clear, but clarity is forming; this light from the Source of Being is knowledge that tells me all will be alright. By the guide of Hecate and her dog, I found my place of inspiration, a distant place which was inside me all along.

 

 

Author: Valerie Turpin
Email: v.turpin@hotmail.com
Link to social media or website: Instagram @val.180

Photo by Lachlan Donald on Unsplash

Comment
by val.180

~When a quiet individual speaks, their voice is loud ~

The voice of the spirit is as loud as the whisper in the wind, breath upon the skin, and as delicate as a feather in the wind. The quiet voice speaks the truth within you. Let it speak through you, and let it be what it will be. There is no rhythm, rhyme, or reason. the voice of the spirit is felt rather than heard, and when it is heard it is through your own words or way of expression.
Speak those quiet words, in any form you wish; through art, verbally, in any way. Let it be and you will see what you are capable of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My articles contain information I have received on my spiritual path, which I call, my path of life, sprinkled in with creative expressions.

Random teed-bits of information about ME: I am from Southwestern Arizona; I was born in 1990 and I am the second to the youngest of 5 children; I have a Bachelor degree in Social Work and I am currently pursing a Master’s in Social Work.

My interests: Poetry; creating art in multiple forms; history of civilization, diversity of cultures, history of art in multiple forms through the ages, world religions, and world power; Psychology and Sociology; Mysticism; Law & Order; writing (academically and creatively).

Enjoy! and Happy reading. <3

More From Poetry

To the girl searching for answers:

by Esther Gonzales

soil of growth

by Esther Gonzales

Thinking of Honey

by Mariah Ghant

The Recovery

by Valerie Gregorio

Pity Parties

by Brandi O'Brien

That static feelings when your leg is asleep

by Carla Naylor

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *