Wednesday, December 7, 2011

The Wishing Chair

Guideposts, street signs,

lines drawn on maps.

Distance travelled, lessons learned

visible in the blisters on my feet.

Motion has been constant, endless

needing something more.

Searching, aching, wandering blindly

without anywhere to go.

Never enough, am I ever enough

for this to be where I stand.

Needing so much, I am bleeding so much

that the lines on the map are now blurred.

I have no idea where I’m going now

only memories of where I’ve been.

The only path visible leads me away

I can’t go back there again.

The wheels are spinning wildly

as clouds of smoke fill the air.

The anticipation of scenery’s change

sitting still I am riddled with pain.

In this desperation, this moment of need

to do something but no knowing what.

This is the time to quietly stop

and silently sit back down.

Cradle myself in the moment

in the comfort of this wishing chair.

Wrap myself up in its warm soft embrace

and sit for this moment in time.

Maybe the wandering can stop for awhile

until I know what I’m looking for.

Until I can fill the emptiness that tears at my heart

until I can call the place I am, home.

  * For dVerse Poets   OpenLinkNight ~ Week 21 *


  1. there comes a point where wandering only gets you further lost and stopping just to breath is not a bad thing at all...nice write...

  2. call it home
    after filling your heart with what you want,

    cool sentiments,
    enjoyed your poetry.