life at the brook

4 or so years ago.
the mannequin in the window was dismembered.
my manufactured attempts were found futile.
my world collapsed.
the castle came a tumbling down.
and the brook dried up...

in the midst of ashes and manufactured parts,
i found a treasure within.
something i had been spending hundreds of hours praying and searching for.
like a sheep caught in a ravine, i was found.
acceptance was accepted.
identity was bestowed.
the journey began.

and now...much personal time is spent,
down by the brook.
continuing to be washed,
continuing to find the man reflected in the waters.
still thirsty, still hungry.
but being fed by the ravens.
nourished by new-found waters.

now, i look around, and see
others gathered at the water hole.
some i have led,
others i have not.
waiting...
thirsting...
feeding...
discovering...
resting.