Painting_Arrival-e1453465205978.jpg

It isn’t the past

Upon which I stumble

It is the future

 

Dreamscapes far below

The airplane window

Of my soul

 

Traveling quickly

With altitude sickness

Not sure where to land

 

Circling

Waiting for Command

To tell me where to go

 

Turbulent escape

Parachuting down

Time to walk instead

 

Down dusty roads

Cracking dry

Under the heat of summer

 

I pass a burning field

A farmer destroying

The weeds that grow

 

Making room

For something new

To break through

 

On the ground

Is safer for me

And for my dreams

 

Sitting by the fire

Throwing things inside

No more room for them to hide

 

Lightening the load

Before taking to the road

A journey preparing

 

I can see you

Standing there

Fanning the flames

 

I can see you

Running around

Throwing water

 

I can see you

Laying there

Laughing

 

I can see you

Running away

Wiping your tears

 

In the moment

Before

It all turns to smoke

 

I will light my cigarette

Off the final

Memory

 

And turn to the horizon.

copyright Jill Szoo Wilson

 

(Photo credit: This poem was inspired by German artist Heiko Müller‘s piece, Arrival.  http://www.heikomueller.de)

 

The soundtrack to this poem for me:

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