Stray, to where? With whom?
In the end we must choose ourselves
over and over.
To stay afloat
you must set aside praying
and save yourself.
You do the thing
you think you cannot do…
Knowing that the anchor
was thrown too far from the boat
all that time ago
reunion can’t come soon enough.
Come, meet your power.
Ask—what do I want instead?
Sometimes we have to go back to go forward.
Sometimes the answers to what lie ahead
are behind us.
We pull things to us,
try to cloak, clothe and comfort ourselves
but every new layer stifles,
leaves a polyester itch.
Unhitch yourself from the wagon
that goes only one way
knows only one route
travels the same rutted path
it always has,
Your vast soul,
that seabed on which
the ocean of you rests,
holds every part of you
Change comes, sometimes,
like a slow dawn.
You shower, dress, and
make your way downstairs
to find the day has kicked off its boots…
On the day of least light,
two cypress trees buffer the dark
and frame the rising sun.
On your own shortest days,
shadows long on the ground…
You’ve been here before
but facing the road
doesn’t mean
you have to rewalk it…
I know you’re tired,
lurching from one exhausted moment
to the next, rushed
through life
like a cloud
at the mercy of the wind…