Whispered Wanderings

It’s easy for someone like me
to turn the poem over to itself, to let
thoughts roam freely wherever they will;
wild horses running through a forest, nothing
pushing them or
urging them on
except their natural freedom.

But dude
it’s dark in here, and I can’t find the
light. I don’t want to feel this!
This isn’t who I imagine myself to be,
you know.

But, you told me not to
run from it this time
to stay out of my head;
listen to
my body.

And so I must stay here in this dark; where
the only way out
is
through.

I don’t like it here much. It’s like
you’ve left me alone
with the lantern you used to hold up for me
to light my path.

Except you didn’t give me any matches so
I have to figure out how to light it
for myself.

klm
5/13/23