souls searching

In the shadows sits his soul,
quiet, sullen, but not
brooding. It has become
disengaged from him, though not, yet,
angrily so, because he
has
become
disengaged from it, not
estranged. He
is lost, his friends
think, without too, too much
judgment.
He is not alone. Like others, he seeks spirituality,
while, at the same time,
cowering from it. It is a
conundrum he accepts, at least for
the time
being, because he thinks
life is not a life unless it is examined
closely and at every turn, and he is trying
to understand it all. He
never will, of course,
but he knows that, too. Still, he
tries. He is slowly
approaching
equanimity. And for that, at the very least,
he
is
grateful.