No greater metaphor
To my reason for being
Than a remote highway
Through open country
I’ve not yet explored
With the tools in hand
To tell the tales
Of my discoveries
More and more
Discovery comes
As reflections of my self
In the landscape of existence
Oft times the path ahead
Seems crystal clear and straight
Still I proceed with caution
Keep my eye upon the road
For sudden curves unforeseen
For living things which cross the lane
For side roads leading from the route
Some could throw me from my course
And I could lose my way
Some may form a barrier
Force me to a halt
Some may lead me far astray
Distract me from my goals
Some may offer opportunity
A better route to go
And which of these
I may not know
Until I drive
Some many miles beyond
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
Of space and time
Of politics and social norms
Of family and friends
The things that stay
But never stay the same
The ephemeral things
Lost and soon forgotten
Nothing ever stays
But change
Which is often the point
Of these things we do to landscapes
Change the landscape
Change each other
Change ourselves
An oppressive weight
Waiting to fall
My mood becomes dark as the sky
Until I realize the low grey cover
Provides an atmospheric parasol
A gift to soften harsh desert sun
Diminish the heat of afternoon
An invitation to step out of the car
I breathe deeply in sage-scented air
While my mood becomes effervescent
As sage drifting in the desert breeze
I have to admit
To some minor or major
Moments of fascination
Or delight
Or longing
Emotion moving my core
With some rekindled
Long-forgotten moment
Or chapter
In a life becoming much too long
To hold all the memories
Within my mind alone
A birthday card
A letter written but never sent
Elementary report cards
And aptitude test results
A story I’d written
With misshapen letters
And a child’s innocence
A Dragnet drama
Starring a detective snake
Age eight
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
With scant resource
For alternates
My faith is firm
No other course
Now heart resolved
Courage mustered
With just one step
My fears dissolved
Sometimes I know
Which way they’re going to go
Even before I make them
More often they go
The way they’re going to go
Long before I see the right or the wrong
I make choices
Sometimes I realize
Sometimes I don’t
Until they’re in the rear view mirror
Shrouded beacon
Reaches into the murk
Whisper of stifled radiance
Beckons
Illuminates
A serpentine road
Beginning and end uncertain
Strike out for the unknown
Keep faith the road reaches the bridge
Hopeful glimmer beyond
Pix to Words 