by Angela Hoffman

It is not about reaching a goal or finding a purpose.  
I am glimmering a new truth. 
It lies in the practice. 
That thing we have to do over and over with nothing to show. 
It is in the again and again 
the returning to 
the showing up 
getting back on the path. 
 
I wanted instead the wings of a dove to fly away, to arrive 
but it seems I have to stay put and persevere. 
The Spirit rests 
in the fear, in the not-enough-ness 
in the wonder and awe 
in the suffering, 
in making meaning 
in letting be 
in the silence 
in the witnessing. 
 
There comes a tipping point when the pull is so strong 
you no longer want the wings to arrive somewhere. 
The practice becomes the arrival. 

Angela Hoffman lives in Wisconsin. Her poetry has appeared in Solitary Plover, Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets Museletter and calendar, and Your Daily Poem.com.She committed to writing a poem a day during the first two years of the pandemic. Angela’s interests in spirituality and personal growth inspire her poetry.