For Home … yet.

All around me

Energy is being thrown at tall, bland walls;

Pounding, pumping legs,

Spinning numbers, belts,

Reds, silvers, greys.

And me?

I lie here, barely the right side

Of being able to breathe;

Hearing, faintly, the call of

The wide, wild blue.

Now, I am faithful as all hell –

Trust me, friend,

It has been tested –

Just not ready to

Set out

For home yet.

The Call

I am

The call from seas unknown,

Ruins buried by sands,

The voice-in-whispers

Of mountains remembered,

The ache in the

Yearning spaces;

The shadows,

Sometimes glimpsed

From the corner of your eye:

The wishes you

dare not voice.