#292 and #293 The Compass and The Instructor

The CompassThe compass was a gift from GodBut the needle refused to stay stillI'd walk three miles through deepest bogTrying to follow its willToday is a day we go North!Needle held a steady lineNext day was East. I went forthThen it showed South for a timeOccasionally, I would stopWatch my compass circle roundDive and dance and spin and dropSometimes point at the groundWhile stationary I would panic"I'm not going where I'm supposed to be"While walking I'd grow manicFollowing the whims of a force I could not seeI know not where I'm being ledI will walk through wind sun and shadeFollowing the smallest crumbs of breadTo feel that some progress has been made***The InstructorThe instructor, they took my handAdjusted the grip on my waistPushed my feet out slightlyGave three instructions to my faceI had plenty of questionsBut knew I was not allowed to askIt was my job to learnThis oh-so-difficult taskThe instructor was powerfulBut gentle in their touchI followed where they ledAnd did not question. Much.Each time I tried, the same replyWas whispered in my earDo not forget, my dearI am the instructor hereIn awe, I fell silentUntil another question would ariseThis happened time and time againUntil, to my surpriseI finally lost myself in the dance. And then, for just a little whileWe danced together as a pair, and I saw the instructor smile***https://harryisapoet.blogspot.com/2018/08/the-compass-and-instructor.html