Unforced Errors

As I recall (and this was a while ago) the exercise that day was to write about our mystical experience. Well folks, this is about as mystic as I get.

Unforced Errors are my Mystical Experience

We're a noisy, stumbling crowd,
Part beast, part god,
Funny in our slapstick way -
Ricocheting in the
Narrow space we make -
Striking together hard
Enough to see sparks.

Blind creatures living in the dark.

And when I see him, see his face,
I know he will lie to me
Again. After the lightning
Comes the rain; we are born to
Pain and live in pain.

What am I searching for?
Why do I scrabble and scrape?
There's a spirit in each of us
That yearns unknowing for its source.