Always the Road Redux
All my life I’ve thought one day this wandering will end,
The place I seek appearing, and there I am — at home.
Some sweet promised, fruitful, verdant, restful land.
I smile, breathe it in, and settle down.
There we laugh and feast and play ’til dark
Then lie within each other’s arms and sigh
And sleep as those untroubled or perplexed,
Wake to breathe the dew and steaming coffee mist.
Along the way I’ve sat at pleasant tables,
I have drunk the hospitality of friends;
Laughed until our bellies ached, falling on the floor
Ticking clock no check to end our revelry.
And then again the road, always the road,
Waving, shrinking figures in the rear view mirror.
Digging through the bin I find my sunglasses,
Visor down, driving toward the light.
But now more often I am tending roots,
Good and wholesome work that grounds me too.
Not quite a place of rest, though. Too much
Wind has passed beneath these well worn wings.
Now and then it comes to me — a highway that goes ever on,
Which I must follow if and when I can.
And eager, anxious, restless feet trying to find some larger way.
The question haunts: “And whither then? I cannot say.”
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Read “Always the Road”