“Make plans.
Make them now,” urges pale light filtering through curtains.
“Move honey.
Just move,” calls a road map on the shelf.

“What are you waiting for?”
asks the able-bodied adventurer in my heart,
shaking her head with impatience
from waiting too long,
pack ready,
to move forward on the trail.

See that compass? See the sun
moving across the sky?
Another day is passing.
Another moonrise is certain.
Which vista will be your viewpoint?

Are you paying attention, my beloved?

Will you see life from inside the same room
and through the same window?
Or will you step outside?

Will you let Polaris be your marker?

It’s time to open the front door and walk away.
Go deep into the woods and
find a path in the underbrush;
roam the edge of the desert,
and turn away from
the sign posts reading “Wait Until Tomorrow.”

Cross the ocean and find also –
byways so well-seasoned by memories and movement –
that ghosts of ancient travelers will watch over you in sleep
and never let you lose your waking way.

“Take yourself by the hand,” whispers my soul,

“Don’t wait, don’t wait, dear god….
don’t wait.
Just seize your heart –
and go.”

© martha lee phelps