My life next

a poem

Woman with an Umbrella, Robert Delaunay


Wordlessness on my tongue,
my silent mouth sprouts wildflowers,
sweet when I lick my lips,
but they cast no spell, impart
no mind expansion,
or ecstatic high.

Wordless walks with me along 
the shore, we dance with waves.
our footsteps disappear in the tide
as I search for something more,
something deep inside a quiet
before dawn.

Wordlessness and I are pilgrims
in search of the sacred in me,
in my humanity, a purpose
for my life before I’m through.

Where in wordlessness
can I find a space where I can point
and say, there, this is it is?

Lost, with only wordlessness
beside me, I lay down to dream
of being some other version of me,
a me covered from head to toe
in several blankets of words
that explain what I should
do with my life next.


© 2019, A. Breslin. All Rights Reserved