In droves they look out into the night sky
inspecting the patterns of the heavens;
aware deep within of feelings of longing,
not though knowing their origin.
Just occasionally a fleeting moment of illumination,
too soon gone,
not even really impressed upon the consciousness.
Seemingly hollow existence precipitates the silent scream
transmuting itself into the
heartfelt sob that craves comfort.
The cloak of conformity hides those who do not belong
becoming at one and the same time
a camouflage and burden as inner discomfort grows.
Concrete questions are not yet formulated
so not answered.
The horror grows, with it comes a loss of faith
and an anger that cannot find words or expression.
 Why Me? Why Me? is the cry.
 Then as the loneliness and pain threaten to destroy
a glimmer of light is spied and tenaciously held onto,
the very essence of life is at stake.
Anger finds its words,
God is challenged and answers are demanded.
No longer meek and dutiful the servant
kicks and shouts for explanations.
Awakening in full flow, there is no turning back now.
Stripped of human dignity the old form is torn asunder
and the journey home is begun.
Work here is nearly complete.
It was the mother who called, and for her touch you longed.
She is the star in your night sky,
she will guide you home as you were guided here,
with a love that is expansive but not cloying,
guiding rather than directing, asking not demanding.
The choice was yours, it was pain and limitation
but home is once again in sight.
Follow your star,
for your own kind you came,
for mankind you stayed,
for yourself you will return.
 
Christine Fitzgerald