Not Ready

Feet barely on the ground
Shoes off, airport-bound
Skin bleached by modern lights
Soul starved without sunlight

Fingers crooked, bent double
Fists with gaps, calloused stubbles
Freshly unplugged; not ready, not yet
Already in paradise with a return ticket

Force it open before the close
A sudden quiet, sobering dose
Taken back to patient basics
Still not ready, still a city-sick

Fresh off the boat, sniff the muddy air
Sea fills open noses, and the hair
Precious first hours, catch a breath
Prepare to wake and gather what's left

Fueled by days of hunger and fight
Caught on both sides, trying to be right
The mantle of responsibility is heavy
When the heart is lonely, against the tests


For so little we often give too much
A starving soul is angry, out-of-touch
Not ready to make nice or to back down
Not ready for the hate and the frown



Feelings festering, a pensive stare
As I wash the holiday out from my hair
Already I feel smaller, back to city living
Already the weight dulls my tanned skin

Far away, it feels so far away still
A source of fresh hope, a renewed will
I unpack my sandy rucksacks, too slowly
One thought still echos: I'm not yet ready