Am I always supposed to know where I’m headed?
Am I always supposed to know exactly what to do?
What to say?
My crossroad doesn’t have two options
it has about ten
One roommate says good bye
another is on her way
I look at all the directions I can go
Ithaca bids me to stay
She lures me in with her lovely lake,
homes, front doors and tree covered sidewalks
and sits me down next to her
Artist, writer, photographer, manager, leader
girl, woman, dreamer,
the most brave and the most cowardly
the most confused and the most certain
all in the same bubble
My heart sits patiently in the room
it whispers over and over again,
“Follow the yellow brick road”
Opening my eyes again from dreamland
I see it perfectly