Somewhere, somehow,
I lost my purpose. Maybe
it is mixed in with my busy schedule or underneath the weight of these obligations.
I know I would recognize it again if I could catch just a glimpse of its shining.
It used to be easy to carry,
easy to store—always at the ready.
And even in storms and on rough paths, I tucked it carefully away
next to my heart for safe keeping, and it never failed to arrive with me at my destination.
But it is lost.
And I am not even sure how to retrace my steps.
Where do I begin to look for it after such a long time and such a long path?
Maybe my children took it with them by mistake when they gathered together their belongings and moved out.
Maybe it got lost in unrenewed contracts and the transition from vinyl to CD.
Maybe it…
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Apronhead 