My heroic Adventure
Eating little smarties resting in my hand
Surrounded by voices humming in the air,
all in unison except one -
“Are you humming Wizard of Oz again?”
Drat. It was mine,
The little bugger was humming without me knowing.
Wizard of Oz. Again.
“Maybe it's a sign” she suggested.
A sign? Maybe.
Maybe I need to go off on an adventure
far from everything I love and hold dear,
from all my comfort and zones of safety.
That's no secret.
Yet I'm still waiting, waiting for my turn to hear the call of adventure,
to go on a journey in search of a hidden hero
only to find one inside of myself.
Following the yellow brick road among little people
who live in the tops of tree and grow poisonous apples.
Running away from flying monkeys and
into a haunted forest filled with spider and snakes
only to find myself facing the devil within
a younger sister.
And yet at the end, when I'm flying in a giant balloon
I'll find myself saying that
“There's no place like home”
and craving for a piece of chocolate.
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