The Golden Path

Going into winter as one would enter a darkened room,
the simplest precepts becoming needlessly complicated,
my reasoning on furlough, my commonsense uncommonly dulled.

It’s an icy morning here – that’s how I begin my letter.
Dear anonymous, every day I grow less among the more.
I am defined by a lack of definition.
Bone-tarnished and blood-weary, but ticking over,
the priest-black night has heard our confession
and a cloth-eared god begrudgingly forgiven us.

So now we continue along the Golden Path,
that stippled stretch of country lane laid out before us.
Simple enough. Just follow the enclosed instructions.
What the heart tells us. What the soul already knows.

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Bruce McRae, a Canadian musician, is a multiple Pushcart nominee with poems published in hundreds of magazines, including Poetry, Rattle, and the North American Review. His latest book, Boxing In The Bone Orchard, is available now via Frontenac House.
https://www.frontenachouse.com/product/boxing-in-the-bone-orchard/