Almost

New vistas call to me

unrolling maps through my mind

calling my self to escape its skin.

I can almost clasp souls

with the lives around me

in a city whose pulse

seeks the rhythm of my wandering legs

upon the crest of a hill

where my throat aches for sweet stone waters.

But always I hold myself back, tethered to waiting,

needing you beside me, in that city, on that hilltop

selves joined at last

and calling out

doors and windows opening

to spirits pouring in.

Author: Jolene Sabetha