Turmoil

Hope and hopelessness are at war in me
Euphoria and despair like a cartoon angel and devil
The faith of my soul tells me I'm 
among the soft clouds;
Till cynicism hisses bitter in my ear
that it's all cardboard and fishing wire
And so, feeling still no leader I can trust,
I can only cling to what I love and what is beautiful
and try to do these things I want to do,
and try to be this thing I want to be

Lot's Wife

Standing on the midpoint between two horizons
I do not know which way to run.
Do I catch the hand of lightness
and let it lift me buoyant into freedom and fresh air,
leaving the smoke of golden flames far below and forgotten,
or take the hands of those left behind
And lose my upward momentum as I share it with them,
pulling them towards me and myself therefore back down?
Caught between myself and my hopeless city,
I stand weeping and frozen where I stand
till my body is a solid heavy pillar
of salty tears.