The place where I started can be found
among chewed pencil stubs marking the moment
between moments marked by pencil scribbles
noting the time when boring entered my lexicon.
I first said boring the time when I was born,
apologetically to my mother as she screamed.
I have since apologized to my mother
for all the times when I made her cry.
Secular folks are not the only ones to cry,
begging for a sign that reads, Smile, Sinner.
There are signs smiling all across this Land
around which we circle seeking our home.
Sometimes going around in circles
I never find the place where I started.