Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Almost didn’t make it out of Buenos Aires:

Fell asleep at the gate, emotionally drained,

woke up at last call

shaking like a drunk,

no control of my body,

my step unsteady, I forced myself to fly

even though I walked as if I couldn’t control where my feet

were to land and in which direction.

I could – but I felt under a spell

as if something-someone wouldn’t let me go.

Almost didn’t make it back from Bolivia.

Lingered at the threshold of a disappointing dream

searching for meaning,

Lingered in my shower’s cleansing heat

hoping for healing,

Lingered over my aunt’s homemade yogurt

groping for feeling

The flight’s closed, he said.

Let him go, they cried.

Shaking, I pleaded, like a refugee,

You must let me fly. Please.

My work here is done

and my life there goes on.

The gate opened, I slipped through.

Again, I am in the great between,

gates opening and closing around me

and I stumbling through…

what to?

A woman who loves me, whom I adore…

we are searching for more.

A megalopolis: fascination, inspiration,

opportunity, community, generosity, be what you want to be;

isolation, repulsion, contamination,

arrogance, decadence, inertia… I try to shake it all off, be me.

Work to be done, where to start?

and if begun, where will I end up?

Much as I love this liminal, I dread

getting stuck neither here nor there.

So I seek the land beneath me and all around

for a sign saying HERE!

Land, lay foundation, build your home,

grow the garden of your dreams

so that you may fall asleep inside or out,

open and close the gates at will.