22d • Share your Poems
Lost On Purpose
Lost On Purpose
Let me feel the subtle slipping, soft as breath against a seam,
Where the self I thought was solid fades to something less extreme.
I have stood inside these moments, felt their quiet, pulling sway -
Every time I call it ending, something in me leans to stay.
Not as I was formed to hold it, not as I was taught to be,
But as something far more patient, loosening its need to see.
There’s a strange and tender absence where the edges used to start,
Like a question left unanswered pressing gently at the heart.
I have tried to name the feeling, tried to anchor, tried to bind,
Built a thousand careful structures just to steady what I’d find.
But they faltered - not in breaking, more like softening their claim,
As if form itself grew weary of pretending it was frame.
And it found me - every time - quiet, unannounced, and clear,
Not a force of devastation, but a presence drawing near.
Not removing, not unmaking, only asking me to see
What might happen if I loosened what I thought I had to be.
There’s a crossing in the silence, there’s a thinning of the thread,
Where the past becomes a language I have long since learned and read.
And I linger there, suspended, not in absence but in trust,
As the shape I wore so tightly turns to memory and dust.
Still I’m here - though something shifts me, still I’m here - though something’s gone,
Not diminished, not divided, but continuing as one
With the quiet, constant motion I once struggled to oppose,
Now a rhythm I surrender to, a current that I chose.
I have lost myself so often that the word has come undone,
For there’s something in the losing that returns me to the One -
Not a place and not a purpose, not a fixed or final form,
But a deeper kind of knowing I have always carried warm.
So when once again it finds me - that familiar, sacred blur -
I don’t reach for old defining, I don’t ask it to defer.
I allow the gentle shifting, let the boundaries release,
And I follow where it takes me -
not to find it, but to cease
Into something vast and quiet, something patient, something true -
As the last of what I carried loosens softly into view.
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Lost On Purpose
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