The Reluctant Traveller

I can’t tell

if this is fear,

or something


A weightlessness

across my skin

and in my heart

a feeling,

like I’m

falling down,

or flying,

but I’m not sure how.


It’s all unfolding

before me

in disturbing clarity.

I’ve lost myself;

no wait,

my body was never found.

A cold case,


and listless, I

may never have been

found out again.

A secret kept.


That slipping feeling

comes over me,

my string unravelling,

my tether to the world


All I’ve known

gets smaller in the distance,

as the unknown multiplies

before me now.


I’m up,

or I’m down.

Drifting around

without the certainties

of yesterday.

So comforting

to know that you

can come into

my life and knock me off

my square,

my pedestal.

Tempt me,

teach me to fall again,

or fly away.


Guess I forgot

that I had wings.

We all have wings.

The sky

should be full of us,

just drifting,

riding the wind,

instead of forging

our fears into

beautiful chains.

So safe

and reasonable,

but ridiculous,

when viewed from the clouds.


The past recedes

and all that’s left

is eternal hope

and endlessness

of infinite


but hurry soon.

I’m coming up

and out into

this new insane

place between

where I’ve been

and where I’ll be.

Watch and see

if I make it.


HG – 2018


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