Wanderlust

Caught and cocooned in a tangle

of outmoded commitment,

light of the unfiltered judgement

glistens on silken threads

that hold me in the animated

suspension of a whorling turn.

Absurdity earmarks the capture

in noisy disarray, the clamoring

for the feast of a slow deafening

death of yawning boredom...

a longing for the winds 

of a dangling temptation

to free the threads that bind.

The shroud is a molting cloth,

frayed at the edges of despair...

metamorphosis of the leave

is still in the making.

The inky jet of a spider waits

at the doorstep with clamping

pincers and hungry mouth,

he is patient and so am I...

he will wait until the gelatinous

remains of my past quiescence

synthesize to a tasty morsel of adieu.

The freeing of the sunlit spirit

will flee to greener pastures,

tempting a liberation

far away from yesterday's tomorrow.