The Frightful Canyon

There is a yawning chasm
Into which every man must look
Toe to the rim
Wind at his back.

In that mighty and vast emptiness
One may see
His own barrenness
And the manifold array
Of weaknesses
Temptations
Foibles
And the recalcitrant nature
Of his inner darkness.

It is a bone-chilling
Bleak experience.

Into that darkness
A man sees
The child he was
The man he wants to become
The thing he is
And the wide spectrum
Of differences.

Failure to make the pilgrimage
To this frightful canyon
Is to so fear your own humanity
That there can be no recovery
No reclamation
No mastery of one’s heart
No fidelity to one’s mind.

It is a fearful haunting.
It is a soul-numbing thing.

But a man cannot be a man
Otherwise.