Wanderlust

The clouds clear, the sky
resolving to a deep and flawless blue,
where crystal points of possibility sparkle
and enrapture in the light.

We face each other
as the weight of our possessions falls away
and expectation’s shackles twist and
shear in screaming metal pain.

A million suns of destiny
invite us down their own uncertain paths,
where in the radiant glare move shadows
of acquaintance still unmade.

We awaken to the rush
of wanderlust running through our veins
and, as we hear the footsteps of the gaoler,
only fear can hold us back.