Sometimes,
my comfort zone
feels like a well worn straight jacket
that eases
into the crooks and bends of my body
like an old friend.
It glares
across the no mans land of my smile
scowling
at those who unknowingly trespass
with their untamed exuberance
and hot tears
and shouts of anger,
unaware of the echoing antechamber
that conceals the space
where
I
try
to
hide.
There, sits chained
a wild haired woman
desperate to dance and yell in the rain,
her bare feet pounding the earth
while the gems adorning her ankles and wrists
flash and pulsate
with the joy of Gaia’s heavenly Light.
She’s glimpsed the power of a Love so vast
it flows to the bounds of Space
and back again
like an eternal melody.
And she wants more.
The chance of her freedom
clutches my mind
in a spasm of fear
that my Ego enjoys replaying
again and again.
There is no comfort here,
only vigilance,
limits set,
the checking of paperwork
to ensure that everything is in order,
zoned out
to the call of the wild
that hums my name on the wind.
But she knows it’s coming.
She can feel it.
She’s not the only one
who longs
to pound the Earth with her feet.
The far off drumming slowly building in sound
as the army of Life approaches.
Her toes are twitching,
fingers flickering,
heart mirroring
the rhythm of the beat.
Though her boundaries are watching,
braced for attack,
She knows freedom is coming.
So she waits…