This week’s writing prompt at Writers Island is The Journey. I have a poem that I wrote in 1997 about a journey, so I thought I’d share that with you first, and then follow it up with a new piece for this week.
June 28, 1997
At the front door my journey begins
I don’t know where or how it will end.
Taking me places I’ve never been,
Showing me things that I’ve never seen,
The road turns and twists back round again;
For no two journeys is it ever the same.
Today I look out past the sunrise
Where images dance before my eyes;
I see the sea rushing up to the shore
Feel burning sun, hear waterfall’s roar.
Raindrops patter while thunderclouds boom
On drunken markers above each tomb.
Squealing children slide and swing;
Breezes whisper and church choirs sing.
Mountains stand firm, all pride and power;
O’er lean skyscrapers the snow peaks tower.
Rushing streamlet giggles and laughs;
Over it the billboard shouts Fresh Draft!
At five exactly the whistles scream,
Tell workers to go home to cold tv screens.
Accepting the real world as a sitcom,
They rarely look back, never peer beyond
Immediate present to futures unknown;
Surrounded by family, they live alone.
The world keeps on turning whether they care;
Sun rises and sets with nobody there.
Today I see it, but soon I’ll return
From the journey to ponder what I’ve learned.
The road goes forever if you will just follow,
Through cities and forests and fields lying fallow.
The journey begins at your front door:
Will you take it, or just hit the snooze and snore?