You Ask Me What A Calling Feels Like

It's irritating.
A calling will sound like the    
beep-beep beep-beep
you faintly hear in your sleep-drowsied dreams.  At first 
you will be dimly aware of its alarming persistence, until 
	slowly, slowly,     
        maybe then with a start
you’ll curse the break of day.

That is to say, it’s unpleasant, a calling, 
like a fly, buzzing around in reckless circles and you can’t predict when it’ll laze your blasted way again.
It’s wild like that, a calling.
Unpredictable. Supremely swat-able.  It keeps you on edge - 
flitting by your periphery, loitering under your nose, it’s whispers too close for 
comfort.

But it will make itself comfortable.  One day.  Like a charming, mysterious
friend. When it saunters by you’ll pour it a drink, hoping to coax it into staying, at least long enough to spill
where it’s been     what it’s doing     where you fit in
“Why do you keep coming back…” you’ll ask, chin cupped in your hand, pulse racing, heart hiding, playing it coy, 
“…to me?”

That’s when a calling moves in. Not as a roommate, or a lover, or a dependent, 
or a friend.  No, a calling moves in as your shadow.  
Or maybe you are its shadow.     It’s hard to say.
Where you go, it goes, and sometimes it’s there - before you, waltzing off the well-marked path while you trail it’s ethereal, dizzying dance. 
It’s addictive, strangely enough, 
to follow it into the unknown, to watch it fade and flow, ebbed one moment and -wait for it- enormous the next. It’s 
intoxicating, knowing it belongs to you as much 
as you belong to it.

Just wait.  Soon
a calling will sound like the
thump-thump thump-thump
of your own heart, the
whoosh ah-whoosh
of your lungs, the 
silent longings of your secret soul.

That is to say, it’s bliss, a calling -
like searching the world for an illusive treasure, only to return and find it’s been there all along.
At home. Within you.

“A calling moves in as your shadow. Or maybe you are its shadow. It’s hard to say.”

@revlaurajohnson

Hello, reader!

This poem describes my experience of calling, yet the experience of calling is as unique as our personalities. Some of you may describe it as a burning-bush voice-from-heaven moment, others would describe it as a swift kick in the rear, others would describe a glorious ray of divine sun warming your upturned face.

I’d love to hear your reflections in the comments! If asked what a calling feels like, how would you answer?