Belligerency

I am on—an edge, rather at a crossroad.

The place that I come from is wonderful

The place where I may go to is wondrous

or perhaps wander-ous.

Like gypsies.

trapped in caravans, contained in

silk, bells about their feet. Tintinnabulation.


Everywhere they go, they bring, music

processional

music.

In a line; predictable in order: 1, 2, 3.


Until they reach my crossroad

beckoning with unrestraint

completely unrestraint.

free. wild. extravagant. feral. abandon. nomadic.

without a Home.

abandoned.

Gypsies come to where I stand.

The location of my existence

To release me from the tedium of ordinary existence.



But from where I stand, the view I see

this place that I come from is

wonderful.

My yoke is light. My days bright.

And my nights…dark of course.

sometimes starry. Other times not.

Pull a shawl around me.

Pander around my room, wishing for tea.

Pose as my personal fairy godmother.

Put on some tea.

Push through the last 1, 2, 3 pages.



Drifting from this wonderful place into



Sleep.

I’m just on edge of unconsciousness.

I’m just on the edge.

I’ve reached the crossroad. Again.

I reach it Every Day.

at times rejecting its challenge

at other times not.

Surpassing that which can be wonderful for that which is wondrous.

Being immanent and transcendent.

Embracing unknown, innovation,

tinkering like bells

Gypsies’ bells

in no given order.

Liberated. Autonomous. Bountiful.

Imaginative. Enlightened. Sound.

as in body and mind.

Stretched

in belief and thought.

Distilled

of enmity and despair.

Filled

with charity and grace.

Matured

from apathy and levity.

Committed

to acceptance and faith.

Washed and made whole.


I am at a crossroad.

I look back to the wonderful

forward to the wondrous

prudent of the wander-ous

and certain to the wonder.

A bell rings.



Round One.



This old poem was inspired by a typo. I meant to write the word "wondrous" and instead wrote "wanderous" in a theology essay. Copyright 2009 KSA