I'm so afraid of this kind of commitment that I don't even want to title these posts as napowrimo.

So many ways to go on this prompt.  I tried two different directions (forks in the road).  I'm not happy with where I ended up with either, but it'll be food for ongoing thought.  I guess good prompts are like that. 

Today's prompt:  the choice we didn't make (or the thing we didn't choose).  Every day we make choices. Some are small: English breakfast or Lipton? the highway or back roads? Some are more significant: convertible or mini-van? farmhouse or condo?  Some choices lead us straight into the life we’re living, but for this poem, think about one of the things in your life you didn’t choose.  Be concrete. Pick an object — something tangible* — and write your poem directly to it, as if you were writing it a personal letter. Explain why you didn’t choose it. What could things have been like if you had? Talk about what your life has become without it. See where the “confession” takes you.  *As an alternative, dig a little deeper and write your poem to a person you left behind.

Fork #1

I didn’t choose
to fall for your theology
then have you go crazy
--god complex and all,
a fifteen-foot deep-end dive.

I didn’t choose for you to
open your arms
then slam the door shut
on my trusting fingers.

I didn’t choose
to get on my knees
and open my palms for
life-saving bread
then have you kick
all of the kneelers in the teeth
and walk across their prostrate backs.

I didn’t choose
to join a vibrant communion
of artistic, godly souls
only to have you
depress the plunger
and send them to the winds.

I didn’t choose it
but it’s what I got.
At least I learned
how not to lead.


Fork #2

Dear Wild Fulfilling Life,

It’s long since we spoke
and yes,
I’m still with security,
ever since we split,
you and I
--and that was kind of the point.

I still firmly believe in
commitment,
but lately I’ve been reflecting
and I’ve begun wondering
if we could ever still have a chance.

I still think about you,
often,
dream about the days we spent,
reminisce the nights we made
when we stayed up forever.

Security has been good to me
but I miss the spice
of risk,
the danger
of yes,
the possibility
of what the hell.

What do you say?
You up for another go?
Perhaps just a tryst,
to see how it flows?
Am I stupid for asking?

Love (?), me