When the time comes

Will you go?

When the time comes
That the faces of furniture appear menacing
Reindeer décor and potted plants seem to smirk
And passing smiles look cracked from your vantage point high above
You may find yourself flirting with doubt

When irony bleeds through the layers of your carefully ordered existence
Navigational skills revert to muscle memory
And the gaps between days camouflage
With scarcely a farewell
You may discover you’ve sailed into a storm

When you sit still and stare at the alchemist
Studying the craft and the lines of his face
The swell grows as you predict
And perhaps how you dictate
You may wish you’d stayed ashore

When the whole show closes, prompting the herd to move on
Openness comes to meet emptiness
As equals no less
And you must choose your seat
You may think the choice is easy

In the moments that hide in each encounter
Dressed in commoner’s clothes
You’ll receive many prescriptions
And each will come from a genuine expert
The time will come to make your move

With purity obscured and later forgotten,
Attention courted along every edge
Imperatives run free
And the job changes
You may encounter confusion

A map is not a bible
It may compel
But it cannot demand compliance
When the trail stretches, when it sneers
You may be the only one who can say stop