Musings of a Sunday Morning

I stand on a precipice

My toes hanging off our front porch

An open field undulating like the sea.

I hear my mother inside

Washing pots and talking to my father

Not talking

Yelling

Quietly enough to strain my ears. 

Shall I take to the ocean

And trade such a loud silence

for quiet catastrophe?

Is this the love in store for me - 

Wildly disappointing

A life spent washing cracks into my hands

And yelling into silence. 

But the salty spray of adventure calls 

Weaving its fingers through my hair

Seducing my wily heart. 

Should wanderlust drive me

Out from my void of indecision

Or keep me suspended 

Hanging with my toes off the porch

Holding onto the doorframe

Pearls filling my mouth

stifling my gasping breaths. 

Fireworks spill from my palms 

Reaching out to the  sun's heavy steam. 

I can feel God's laughter

At my wasting my life in between

Unable to stir from the cusp of tomorrow.

Wanderlust or lukewarm love 

Tugging me apart from my throat.