letting the spirit live

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can you spend your

whole life buying    time?

 

you can’t afford it –

 

and anyway, it’s

not for sale.

 

in this foreign field,

fraught-wading between

 

light and dark;

past and future;

flowers and fury –

 

tiny bits of    terror    follow

across the measured miles,

 

biting, questioning:

 

     who are you? what are you doing?

     where will you go? what is your purpose?

 

when you stop to touch a yellow daisy,

your feet feel they will catch    fire.

 

you have been this way before;

the beauty and blur of a waking dream:

 

so close to the turn,

the bend in the path,

the hidden fork just beyond the

 

panic-swung foot-bridge.

 

when you reach the two trails,

will you even know which way to go?

 

the i-don’t-know follows

you down every line you cast

 

as you wait for the next plank

to slip under your trembling —

 

just in time,      just above the roiling.

 

it is so tempting to turn back,

to return to the known

 

even as it ex-sanguinates you.

 

it is non-negotiable,

this chasing of dreams,

of letting the spirit live:

 

you must keep moving

your soul-feet forward.

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