Last Ditch

Have you felt invisible
Made from supernatural
Then unmade by someone’s lack?
So have some of us

We become as sunflowers, though
We watch for a flicker
We turn in accordance
We thrive in The Light

Mother Road

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.