Stand, Crawl, Walk

Again, I'm left asking,
    Where do I stand?
 The repetition of this question
   makes an abstraction of
   firm ground for foundation...

The foolish man builds his house
          upon the sand;
An idiot dreamer sets castles
             in the clouds;
   Drunks and junkies hit rock bottom...

If the earth is in motion,
   where do the wise settle?

               ***
Teetering backwards,
     running in place—
   this place stinks of
                   stagnation.
Fall again,
        raw knee crawl,
   up again
            and shaking.
No, I suppose it doesn't
    take that much
       to shake us
  to pieces; not when
 she moves and earth
    trembles,
  the ground crumbles
     in tiny quakes
        beneath our feet.
When the dust storm settles,
   what will be left
                for me
                         here?
               ***
   Tell me,
 when is the time to
     walk away?
When should I light
   my way with
 bridges burning
      behind?
Am I free?
      26
   unmarried/single
     no kids
  If so,
where do I go?
  The limtless horizon
  is dizzying;
loyalty and tacit
     devotion
  hold heart strings
    like anchors—
The world won't stop
   without me,
     nor should it—
  So, again,
 when does the time
    come to
walk away?

I still can't think of
anywhere I'd rather be...