restless

july 17, 2008

 
I am restless with my restlessness.
I want change
from this ever-shifting life.
The dancing trees are tired —
let them put down roots.
Take off their slippers and don
the heavy seven-league boots.

Trudge
across the brown earth,
wading through the green rivers
where the mountains grow scarce,
the plains grow wide.

When I get to the desert, will you be there?

I could unpack my trunk,
pipes and engines rattling,
join in the effort of pouring life
into the dry ground.

Or I could sit and wait,
send out roots,
staring at bushes and shrubs that fill the space,
unconcerned
that there is no path.