At Freedom's Edge

Here I sit at freedom's edge,

 Yet, I don't know where to go.

Like an inmate sprung from jail,

 My sense of direction feels mush.  

I will soon hold a license.

 Yet, I don't know what to do.

While it brings much privilege,

 Responsibility snags at it's hems.  

Yes, I dream of deep love,

 But not of the random sort.

I cry for my life partner,

 I'll meet her on the road.

On which road? Shrug!

 Can I read the map of my soul?

Her map projects on my heart,

 But my heart's too cloudy to see.

Inner silence will part her clouds,

 Casting his rays on my life's road.

This takes time n' self nurturing,

 Visions occur by gentle invitation.

My road already exists innately,

 Awaiting discovery, not creation!

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