To the Drunk

When you say you have lost that direction,
Sit out in the breeze.
It is still inside you.

When you hunger what you have lost,
Look far into the distance.

What is captured in a snapshot of time can never be lost.
Upon our return, we are greeted into the house of wisdom’s essence
That has left its clothes in another room.

The time of external enchantment has left its paints by the water.
The seeker is drenched in the forest drinking through roots
Directing through this body.

© -Sonja J. Phinney(1986)