Twelve Steps Within: A Poem to My Inner Compass I walked a road, both dark and steep, With secrets buried far too deep. But silence cracked, and through the shame, A whisper called me by my name. No lightning flash, no holy rod— Not heaven’s voice, not someone’s god. But deep within, a spark grew bright: My inner compass found the light. Step one: I bowed, said, “I am lost.” No mask, no pride, no counting cost. Admitting truth, I faced the tide— My compass steady, by my side. Step two, I dreamed of something more, A path unmarked, a different shore. Not faith in gods I couldn’t see, But faith in what still lived in me. Step three, I made a quiet vow To trust the still small voice somehow. Not led by dogma carved in stone, But by the guide I call my own. I searched my past, the wreck and woe, Took stock of all I'd come to know. Then shared it all—no need to hide— My compass firm, my truest guide. With steps of courage, I made amends, To broken hearts and long-lost friends. Each act a thread in healing’s seam, Each word aligned with my own beam. Each day, I pause, reflect, renew, Ask what is right, what must I do? No thunder speaks, no burning bush— Just honest stillness, quiet hush. Through prayer or thought, or pen and page, I listen, even in my rage. My compass turns, I heed its grace— It leads me to a better place. I walk these steps, not bowed, but free, With faith in what resides in me. No god above, but still I'm whole— My inner compass guides my soul.