Compassion

You see, the truth of it is...
  strive as I may to see the hope,
  sometimes I don't.

Sometimes, like of late,
  I am overcome with the
  strife of my own life,
  and the struggles of
  humankind on this journey.

When I enter these
  'dark nights of the soul'
  I battle with myself.

Do I share in honesty
  the crazed thoughts and
  jumbled feelings tumbling
  through my being?

Or do I wait till I have found
  my way throught them
  and then give the journey voice?

It feels so important to articulate
  this sense I have that
  there is hope
  there is beauty
  there is a way
  through all this...

But then, it feels equally important to live
  with integrity,
  to not feign wisdom
  when I feel none,
  to honor the struggle,
  to give voice to the pain,
  to allow the confusion.

Without seeing the dark traversed,
  words of hope and belief in possibilities
  can seem like magic,
  like a pinnicle that one can only read about
  in the flowery words of another,
  never experience for oneself.

So, I decide to share the tumble,
  my own confusion,
  the contradictions that are me,
  for speaking with integrity feels
  of utmost import to me.

This journey isn't all easy.
  Sometimes, it seems impossible.
  Sometimes, it hurts so bad that
  life itself seems a cruel joke.

In speaking my pain, I am saying
  'Namaste' to you,
  'I see the divine spark in you.
  My soul recognizes your soul.
  I honor the all of you, 
  including  
  the pain, the suffering,
  the confusion.'