A response to "The Journey"

It was a wild night
The wind cut - so cold
it froze warm blooded breaths.
I wrapped the red cloak tighter
around me thinking, "Yes it is wretched
but it is better. Ah! how good and sweet
it is - at last - to feel."

Feel what? Something.
Anything real. Anything
other than the dull, heavy drumbeat
of ought's to do and ought's to be,
should have done, should have been.
Something softer, something cooler -
than the fiery agitation endlessly driving
the crowd toward suicidal comparison.

At first it was tempting
to see it as an emptiness
a desert of vast loneliness
(departing).
But further down the road alone I discovered
I was being discovered.
And feeling those hands
Carefully peeling off my masks
touching things buried, long putrid and dead
I gave myself wholly over to
this holy unknown friend.

I was stripped down to my nakedness
but no longer did I feel the icy wind
Possessions melted to nothing but
the edges of eternity before me
did beautifully extend.
And as the night gave way to dawn
my whole being gave birth to song.