Why, Sir

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Why old McCartney songs
Relic-era assertions, Sir?
Things take forever because we think we have forever to take

Why glamorize the road
Set it to melody, why?
It’s truly just too long, too winding and leads to lonely doors

Mother Road

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What is the name of that road? The spirit and purpose of it? The one we approach, day in and day out, without hesitation?

Familiar with the smell of it, the distractions, attractions and tourist traps along the way, but unsure, in the dark, where to turn when it’s time, finally time, for a rest stop.

Trust, we must, the touch. The feel of our wheels we were gifted, from The Road of all roads, The Mother.

Signal Mountain Road

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Make your way, you, into my night-thoughts, bandying about

Thrashing within my yesterdays, my tonights

An eternal terrorist, it would seem, with no new tactics

Age old, you’re old, I’m getting old and have had enough

I will tell you this, though you will not hear: I am more

More than this, more than us, more than you can handle

The proof is how it took forever for you and that you’re still trying

I’m still here, greater than any sum -look how you are less

The Road Before Us

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I think there’s pale, storm blue.

And a handprint or two. In black, but gentle, not graffiti-like.

I hear green breathing in and giving back.

Soft fibers that fell from all over. Reminders of the eyes and hands behind them.

Amber inviting throughout the space.

Smiles. Wisdom-teaching smiles, that comfort and Save. 

Hard-covered poetry within arms reach.

Wooden bowls, filled for friends, beside the window that’s right where it’s needed.