Trapped

Trapped in the frames of a body
in the frames of many minds

and then there is that distant ancient memory that calls out
vast open lands, sacred groves, forests, trees you cannot reach

roots of the ficus, scent of rain on parched earth
rivers long forgotten flowing relentlessly through your being

that ancient memory beckons you to come home
and you look at the city around you

you stop abruptly
you don't understand

the bleakness that follows taunts the new mind
And there is just that sense of being trapped

not seeking a holiday
an excuse,
but a change
in the way of
that which we call
living!