To construct my own world
with my own pieces that I choose, not forever stuck with
the mismatched snippets tossed to me by needy realities
and gridlocked circumstances.
The simple act of choosing where to live,
of finally being able to unpack.
I know it's out there
and I crave it like well water, pulled up from the deep.
And now, my life bursts open,
ripping the scar tissue of again,
and a million fortune cookies
pop open with promises and crumbs and tell me, go.
If faith is the substance of hope,
then all of those bright atoms of
the years of "yes" in my mind
have assembled themselves like heart cells
and that murmuring beat calls me like love and I will go.

Find me in the red rock river canyons of Utah.
Find me in the subway tumble of New York.
Find me right here in this southern hill town.
Just find me.

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