On Words and Wanderlust

Sometimes

It arises in me

A wanderlust

A yearning to travel

To the other side of the earth

For an African safari or to

Witness

the Seven Wonders of the World

But I do not travel

By airplane

Or train

Or bus

Or even on foot

My wanderlust wants words

To feast

On the words

On the page

To fill my empty cup

To quench my thirst

To turn my water into wine

So I don’t have to celebrate alone

I skim an anthology of poetry on my bedside table

Read the poem a day in my email inbox

from my favorite poet du jour

Listen to an author analyze their work in conversation

with a podcast host I recently discovered I like

But something leaves me lonely

And the billowing echoes

Reverberate

Back at me

My melody unmet

Pondering the possibilities of

Something salty

Or tangy

Or fruity

Or bittersweet

On my lips

I am struck

In a moment of

Excruciating clarity

By the obvious truth

While your words are wise

His sentences sound sacred

Her paragraphs are perfect

Their chapters cast completion

In a wash of relief

I recognize

The words I need are mine

And so tonight

I settle in to write