The Edges of Satisfaction

The Edges of Satisfaction

(“All those registered in Judah’s camp…will set out first.” Numbers 2:6”)

Who knew the highway would land me on the land;
who knew that my way might be confused and misunderstood.
The earth, flat against my feet, urged me to walk without shoes;
the sky, wandering without competing, welcomed my eyes to
echolocate the vast gardens of the day. Who knew
the byways would lead me with fewer opportunities
but full of possibilities this side of town.
Who knew my arms could reach out that far.

I might make it home from here, I’m almost
halfway there. The signs register the mileage,
the restaurants are magnets luring my soul.
The apple tree, its fruit still green,
invites the neighborhood child
to reach for the branches and snap a sour
fruit down. They knock on the door to show me
while their pet dog grabs one on the roll, playing
with it like a tennis ball.

I wondered who might have merged on my rugged road,
who knew, less than more, that destiny was a mixture
with air and arms lifted out until there was someone
to embrace.
I waited to watch, no matter how I started or ended,
that I was coaxed silently by those on the sidelines
who wondered
if my walk my just be a hoax.

as alone as I live
there is no shortage of signs along the way
that I could find evidence of life anywhere I looked,
a highway passable and pleasant, full-limbed and
extended to touch the edges of satisfaction and
the darkness of discontent.