Spiratual Walkabout. Poem by Carl Roussell

This is the story of a young woman.
Maybe you know her or maybe you don't,
or maybe it's the tale of a young man.
I'll stick with 'she', but there are some who won't,
since he sees himself in these words he won't.
Will she meditate on the world? Wonder
or stand back from it and watch it flounder?

She's on a spiritual walkabout
to ask the age old questions of this life;
she is shaking in her soul staring out.
The first question, 'What is her purpose here? ',
to walk aimless day in day out, year in year out?
Second question, 'Is there a God for her? '
Shaking in her soul, is there an answer?

As the tree that sheds it's leaves in autumn,
a skeleton bared to winter's coldness,
can she survive till the springtime has come
to release body/mind to life's fullness?
Or will she fall further into darkness
where the fear to die and the fear to live
leaves nothing to take and nothing to give?

From the despair of soul - yearning. Needing
in this cacophony of human voice
one quiet voice to answer her pleading;
no spoken word of man can quiet the noise.
In a world of doubt she has made her choice;
one with the universe she is at peace,
she knows you within her, she is at peace.