Where are we?

Where will we be

when the dust settles

and the wind changes direction

once again?

What news is being brought

by this dim lantern in the sky?

It lights up nothing but itself,

pitiful in darkness;

unspecified harbinger

of ill fate or hope.

We wish for renewal

amidst the changing weather.

We wish for clarity

in the midst of fog.

It must clear

before I walk off this precipice

carved by the teeth

of doubt and folly.

Meandering river below

carries sediment and fish

turbulent and cold and hungry.

Lead me to safety,

replenish my supplies

and orientate my tattered map,

for the road is long and lonely

when you cast off good company

to fend off thoughts

that flutter in swarms like bats

and carry you heedless into the dark.