Dogs are up
At the crack of dawn
What the hell?
I throw my jeans on.
Once awake
I can’t fall back asleep
I sink into my thoughts
Long and deep.
The fire is hot
But only on one side
The rest, cold and dark
Barely alive.
Conflicting wants,
Competing desires
Might I be consumed
If I lit all those fires?
Isn’t it greedy
To want to have it all?
Shouldn’t I feel grateful
And ignore the call?
Enough is not enough?
Surely that’s my fault
Get it together, girl
Make this yearning halt.
But I keep adding fuel
To the one small fire
Flames burning hotter
Higher and higher.
Crackle, sparks fly
Pop, embers thrown
Seeking to escape
Its contained little home.
Suddenly I realize
The woodpile’s getting smaller
I’ve used it up too fast
And I’m not any warmer.
Somehow that fire
Needs to come from inside
Behind every wall
Where I like to hide.
Not through my children or job
Or in the arms of a man
Will I truly discover
The fire that I am.
This moment of clarity
Feels really good to me.
Still, I haven’t a clue
What, exactly, should I do??
Lori, I just read all of your poems. I think you are an amazing writer. I feel so blessed to know you.
Thank you, FTB
Your comments, and your years of support of my writing, mean a lot to me….truly.