a poetic holiday #3...

I sipped some morning coffee
at Barnes and Noble's bar,
A Carmel Macchiato
so hot my throat was scarred.

Books surrounding conversation
with in-laws, brother, dad,
talk of church and life and heart,
the good, the ugly, the bad.

I leafed through books for quite some time
looking for a read,
A paperback soon caught my eye
the title sparked a need.

"Into the Wild", a new release
the picture made me stare,
a guy was sitting on a bus
staring at thin air.

As I rooted through the book
some phrases tugged my heart,
I snatched it up and purchased it
I couldn't wait to start.

I've made my way to chapter two
and so far I'm transfixed,
The storyline reflects my heart
though my emotion's mixed.

There's part of me that wants to leave
the world refined, explored,
in search for untamed lands of life
modernity ignores.

Dressing up in custom clothes
walking rank and file,
takes all the self-control I got,
dashed with self-denial.

Some days I want to venture out
to places yet discovered,
With hopes of stumbling upon the life
that needs to be recovered.

So many days I march the beat
of this worlds standard drummer,
And every day I acquiesce,
the inner dance gets dumber.

I must admit, I love my life
but yet I must confess,
when I read books as true as this
my heart feels like a mess.

Mere survival doesn't speak
the language of the heart,
My spirit stirs at stories lived
that blow the curve apart.

That step outside accepted lines
and head for unknown lands,
in search of something never touched
by my uncallused hands.

This book unearths a buried part
inside my heaving chest,
inviting me to shake my wings
and jump out of the nest.

Soaring high above the plains,
of motions true to form
A spirit loosed from body cold
to chase a body warm.

Into the wild...to feel the warmth again...


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