Cognito, Ergo Sum

Looking at this present world of chaos,

many see only darkness as their sunrise.

Still others…

Feel forever lost are the voices of fearless hope

and long gone are the rains that muddied the foundation

Even as we long for the innocence of heroic action,

framed honors were not meant to be for some

and there remains only the mud of experience to affix on the wall.

So say some of the dying.

So say some wishing to escape the agony of anticipation.

Is home only found beneath the armor of shielded resistance?

Can death be the only sanctuary from the insanity of fear?

Is one's true home but a place locked safely away

beneath some naked honesty known by only a few?

Might those who dare

to seek out that place

where stripped away layers of protection,

saturated with the tears of elusive answers,

find nature's compass pointing in yet another unexpected direction?

And is that direction

seen only by those whose armor

ravaged by wanderlust and the shedding of mud caked insulation

leap from the twisted abyss with abandonment into another time?

What drives us to leave behind the habit of place and protection

to once again run, walk, and ultimately crawl

through barbed spirals of isolation

into those battlefields of the unknown?

Is it enigmatic, this home we seek

without assumed walls and roof

or fortified landscape?

Is home only beneath the fortification

where a naked and vulnerable heart beckons one to enter?

And if home be the purpose of the journey

what validation allows entry?

Those with answers must now ask more questions

Cogito, ergo sum