I travel along
The thin edge of life
Steep hillside above
Roiling sea below
Confined
Yet
Content
Breakers rumble
And susurru
Their soothing song
While the drive
Becomes dance
With the curves
And rolls
Keeping time
As if the lilt
Of the waves
Sing the highway
Into being
Not the destination
Every place I may want to go
Is a waypoint
On the way to another place
Neither the journey
What is to be gained
From moving
For the sake of movement
But once the wheels
Begin to roll
Changes begin
The promise manifests
What I see; How I think; Who I am
The road was freshly paved
Though heavily pebbled
So the car hummed
As it shimmied in the heavy winds
Here was I
A projectile crossing open country
Which to my being is as good
As being wrapped in a blanket
By a fire on a snowy winter’s eve
Road trips are comfort food for my soul
Gawd
I love
A ferry
The magic carpet
Of roadtrips
Towering
Above the land
Which for a thousand miles
Has known only sky
And a horizon
Beyond infinity
We enter here
By the millions
Entranced
And where others see
Monotony
Or mundanity
I discover
Exquisite
Subtlety
I stop
Reconnoitre
Check the maps
Consider my options
Except for some times
I long for the road
And its gift of living
One mile at a time
Pix to Words 