When the Road Beckons
When the road beckons, I will pack light.
I will leave my fears that I no longer care to carry,
I will leave my anxiety alone in the night.
I will still my heart and take to my flight.
When the road beckons I will view it as a dream,
to live wild, to travel far as a gypsy,
and to give my heart over to the journey,
to let it succeed by succumbing to the experience.
I shall pack a light sweater for the road might be cold,
I will gather my converse to protect my toes.
When the road beckons I will look for the light,
I will seek out kindness of others to help my new plight.
When the road beckons I will carry a brush for my hair,
It will keep my curls from being a mess. For when
the road beckons I will only take what’s easily carried,
so I can slip away before the sadness anchors me here.
The road beckons louder, my bag in my hand.
I can ignore it forever, remaining frozen in fear,
but as the road beckons it get more insistent each year.
It is now yelling that I tarried to long, one more item,
a family photo to ground me back here.
The road beckons, I rise up to meet it,
The road beckons, down it I must go.
The road beckons, I fall to my knees.
The road beckons, I am not ready to be set free.
