My heart and my head always have this war, there standing on the curb,
A brief skirmish between will and destiny.
My soul's giants turned for a moment on eachother,
In a quiet moment's evaluating pause:
I could stay. I could just turn back around and walk away from this sliding door
Turn back into the gray sunlight
Hold fast to something I once called home.
I know my way, here – could walk the green hills
And dark rivers with my eyes closed.
I feel a deep and longing comfort here,
A closeness.
An ease.
Bones' belonging ache.
But I turn, in that instant, momentum sweeping me on.
1 comment:
There is a school here where they teach people to be circus freaks. The people pay for this entertainment. A person who was already a circus freak could join in the fun and show virgins how to hang upside down from silk instead of dry cleaning it for work the next day. "Home sings me of sweet things. My life there has its own wings . . ." Karla Bonnof
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