Right to Doubt

I went to a writing workshop this past weekend that was put on by the Maine Writing Project. The guest speaker was Gary Lawless, poet and owner of Gulf of Maine Books. Near the end of his amazing talk he asked us to write to the prompt of - what does 'pilgrimage' mean to you? 

This is what came for me as I pondered that topic:

 

Right to Doubt

Imposing man in long white robes
compels somber people
to kneel, stand, speak, sing,
be quiet.
No apparent rhyme or reason
to the messages,
as they all seem based in threat.
Every so often he comes out
from behind what keeps him separate
and swings a smoky, smelly canister.
Rosy-cheeked girl
holds a hymnal in her gloved hand,
swings her Mary Jane clad feet
as she looks, listens, smells,
 strains to understand.
Despite her efforts,
she only fully takes in fear.
“Why?” she wonders.
“Don’t they see, hear,
feel the truth?”
Her little stomach churns
as she squirms in the pew.
Years pass
and still she wonders, fears.
But she instinctively also
knows to embrace the good and,
 as a young adult,
she finds unconditional love.
Together they thrive,
through thick and thin.
And then, one day he is gone.
Broken-hearted, she carries on –
eventually heeds the tug,
embarks on a journey within.
Her trek is long and arduous,
though much is discovered along the way.
She’s grateful she knew to take the plunge
as she finds places of flowing,
of growing and knowing
on which she is continually
learning to rely.
She cuddles her little one,
who had every right to doubt
the missives of that scary place.
As time goes on she is
better able to rest easy,
digest the awareness that
it’s right to release,
right to trust,
right to commune,
right to
not feel wrong.

Sarah Carlson

April 7, 2018