I Heard the Wise Words

I HEARD THE WISE WORDS The day wise words were spoken It was over near the beaten path; Where I first heard them uttered. “Beware of the fool in his folly Who may be clever in presenting his story; Only for the seeking of his own glory; Leading the blind to purgatory.” Some had come to seek fortune, Some had followed the path For sexual pleasures. Glory seekers were there as well. Some with dubious mindsets. It was here they could receive every hedonistic pleasure sought. Tongues were fiercely wagging, there was, also the laying on of hands. Maybe I was a self-seeker, who had stood in the cross-- roads observing too long. The cesspool was filled with money grubbers Who had come to trade favors with the innocent ones Who had come there under a hypnotic spell caste down by some grandmothers, from the multitudes. Poverty and ignorance drove others. Though they had come from near and far The spirit of guilt and shame left them tortured and Feeling even more of an execrable outcast. Now that the nearly redeemed felt closer to salvation. They stood with the condemners and became judges of Other struggling souls. The trail was well traveled, and led into the wooded area I wanted to go all the way this time, “no turning back” I am not one of the worldly people. I am not one of the Jaded people I am not one of the religious people. I am not one of the big brains, nor am I the innocent or UN-blamed. Nothing agrees with me, I do not fit in anywhere I do not believe any of them. I stand there and this is as far as I have gotten. I hear the braying of the lame mule that s someone has tied to the stake. Some horrible unclean spirit rushes by me, leaving a thick burning in my nostrils They mumbled something concerning the “last altar call” The torment of not belonging pierced me like an arrow. I felt I could not be any more spiritually depleted than I already was. The wise messages, the warnings, yet I was not like anyone. Neither was I conditioned to be. Curiosity led me the rest of the way. Hidden in the woods was a little shrine, a small church and an “old rugged cross” Seeking God and self simultaneously was no easy feat. There had been no pronouncement of purpose, So, I leaned on my own logic. The wise words replayed in my head. “Beware of the fool in his folly Who may be clever in presenting his story Only for the seeking of his own glory Leading the blind to purgatory.” These people do not walk the straight and or the narrow. They go on as if their “monetary wealth” Allows them to rule without Authority As if they had inherited some God-like seniority. As they condemn, they become louder and prouder. Parroting, hearsay, without humility. Preachers, pulpits, and altars Calling for one more dollar. From the spiritually depleted. Picking the pockets of “broke pockets”. Wrongly, decoded original words. I turn back. I walk past the clever fool Walk past the lame mule; This time I march winsomely past the horribly unclean. Back to the cross-roads. Back to being that UN-slotted, Non-stigmatized UN-charted, unqualified, UN-categorized The one unique woman who stopped trying to find herself, as I now remain “lost in my own thoughts”.