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One day, in my late twenties,
I seem to have misplaced something.
I didn’t notice it at first
But when I did
I went looking for it,
I went to the window by the mountain
I wanted to shout for it
Call its name
Beg for its return
Only, I couldn’t remember its name
Or what it looked like
If it had a smell
Or a taste.
I only knew that I had lost confidence
In something larger than myself
That all my belief that
Everything would come out right
Was flying like a swallow in the sunset
Beautiful and tiny
Winding its way with all
Deliberation
And hoping to reach a friendly branch
In time.