Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Writers Island: The Journey (#2 of 2)

This week's writing prompt at Writers Island is The Journey, and now I have the new piece that I wrote just for this week.

The Journey
October 1, 2007

We are leaving on a journey.

I want to be prepared.
I ransack my clothes,
try to find itty-bitty bottles
for shampoos and lotions --
and suitcases!
We need luggage
to put everything in! --
And passports
and traveler's checks
and clear, one-quart
resealable baggies,
or we'll never get through security.

You sit on the corner of the bed
and you smile at me
at my ransacking
and my rushing,
at my haste
and my hurry.

you say.
"You do not need any of those things
for the journey we are taking."
I pause --
your eyes catch mine
and hold them.

I know you are right
but I am afraid.
What will happen to me
on a journey
if I don't have my suitcases
my passports
my traveler's checks?
What will happen to me
on a journey
if I don't have my clothes
and my itty-bitty bottles
and my clear, one-quart
resealable baggies?

What will happen to me
on our journey?

What will happen, beloved?

You are silent,
your eyes holding mine
singing in love
warming me with fire
trying to tell me
everything I need to know
trying to give me
everything I need to have.

My eyes fall to the floor
to your feet;
my lips quiver
and my shoulders tremble.

I cannot tell you
everything you need to know
and I cannot give you
everything you need to have.

The clear, one-quart
resealable baggie
has fallen to the floor
between your feet and mine,
and it rustles
in the breeze from the open window.

I hold out my hands
to show you
that I am not prepared.
I do not know
what to bring
for our journey.

You reach out
and place your hands beneath mine,
your palms dwarfing mine
your long fingers circling my wrists.

you say.
"This is our journey.
We go where the west wind blows us.
We do what the sun and stars and moon bid us.
We go with empty hands
because we do not know
what we will need.
We go with full hearts
because we are together."

This is our journey.
My hands were empty
but now they hold yours.

My eyes close
to the scattered clothing
traveler's checks
itty-bitty bottles
and clear, one-quart
resealable baggies.

And hand in hand,
we step through the door
onto the path
to discover our journey,
the one we take