Alas, I find it's time to leave.
If only I could speculate on where I'm headed,
The trajectory of my destination,
Guess the reason for my leaving so soon after my recent return,
I might fathom the state of my fate,
Locate the real reason for my quixotic peripatetics,
Why one more frenetic peregrination seems so necessary,
Precisely at the moment when home is growing so familiar, again.
For now, all I can do is wait...wait...
And pray that wherever I'm going, I'll get there safe
Or, if not, that at least I'll have made a tenacious effort,
Held fast to the notion that hewing to the truth of who I am
Will have taken me to where I'm supposed to be
And let those attending me, on my arrival,
Know my dead reckoning died somewhere in midstride,
While I was stranded at the dead edge of restless desperation.
01/17/11 - (1)