Exquisite Surrender: Poem for the Days of Awe

silhouette of woman standing before lake with dark trees in the background reflected in the lake. her arms are spread wide.
We are called upon to surrender.
But we don’t know who or what we are surrendering to.
So we wander in the wilderness of our minds
Searching for the illusive path.
We will never find that path.
There is no path to be found.
There is only this exquisite mystery,
This perilous unknown.
This neon question mark
Is our gift and our solace.
Surrender to that . . .

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