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.