Packing up for Paradise

I’ve been through what my through was to be

I did what I could and couldn’t

I was never sure how I would get there

I nourished an ardor for thresholds

for stepping stones and for ladders

I discovered detour and ditch

I swam in the high tides of greed

I built sandcastles to house my dreams

I survived the sunburns of love

No longer do I hunt for targets

I’ve climbed all the summits I need to

and I’ve eaten my share of lotus

Now I give praise and thanks

for what could not be avoided

and for every foolhardy choice

I cherish my wounds and their cures

and the sweet enervations of bliss

My book is an open life

I wave goodbye to the absolutes

and send my regards to infinity

I’d rather be blithe than correct

Until something transcendent turns up

I plash in my poetry puddle

and try to keep God amused


James Broughton