Abandoned Cars

I’ve been sitting, in silence,

staring out of the windshield,

thinking about the long road

ahead. I can’t explain how

I feel. What am I scared of?

I’ve made this trip many times

before. In my mind, I am

balancing on the thin line

connecting fear and love:

wedged in-between the sky

above and the hard ground

below. What is out there?

I wish there was a way to know.

I stepped out the door,

so I should be able to leave

the driveway. I know I need

to take my time, but it is

killing me, knowing there are

so many things to do, places

to see, and old friends to meet.

I can’t stay here forever.

In nature, rivers flow, rain

drops fall, the wind blows

and the trees never stop

growing. They keep it moving.

My body is much the same;

the few things that I will leave

behind are memories made,

a vane legacy, and a name.

This too shall pass, and it will

fast. Hesitation. Rumination.

None taken. No reservations.

Still, the morning glow looks

amazing. The clouds have

parted. Leafs are dancing on

branches. Flowers are budding.

Birds seamlessly glide in a blue

sky. Better days are coming.

There is no need to hurry.

I will get to where I need to

go in due time. I don’t need

to drive, when I can walk.

That way, all the beauty

surrounding me won’t go

unnoticed. When I have

tunnel vision, all things

sublime, hiding in plain sight,

to my left and right, will

become a blur. I cover up

the clock, get out of the car,

and remember how to walk.