This is how you find yourself

This is how you find yourself,
alone in some woods.

Walking, knowing you are walking.
Hurting, knowing that you hurt.
Waking, from your haze of exhaustion,
and finally seeing,

your dreams did come to pass.
But already they've come to ask
one last thing of you now.

I don't know how to love you.
I don't know how to say goodbye,

only that you have come to a door,
and behind that door stand other doors,
and beyond that dark horizon
beckons an even greater horizon,
and beneath it all, a ground named body,
and a true way, a whole way, wholly lost.

Yet the world has not forgotten you.
The trees tend for you tonight,
the birdsong comes to find you,
and even grey skies
can nourish your faith.

Maybe your love is a true love
that can rejoice even it its own death,
like a river dies, then becomes rain.

Maybe despair is here to console you,
a different face of what you hold dear,
and as absence has made a home of your heart,
with courage, presence might also be near.

Maybe your hurt would be your honour,
if you could honour that hurt with grace.

Because this is what you prayed for,
this is how you fall the second time,

and this is how you find yourself,
alone in some woods.