Basket Poem by Ann Mckeeman

i am on a journey…
wandering through my own life -
like someone set loose amid the market stalls
of a wild and exotic bazaar.
i carry a basket..
looking longingly at the treasures spread
before my weary gaze…
realizing none of them are for me.
it is empty
as i feel
dry and worn, and
strangely light.
i sought once for fullness-
having been dismayed at its lack
i fear it now
like a fire that at once looks inviting and then veers wildly out of control…burning all in its path…
i wonder how …being as i am,
would i survive such abundance ….without being consumed whole by the flame…