Under the Bus

You may feel like you’re under

the bus. Maybe, someone threw

you there. To be clear, you can

get from under that bus. Trust

that you can get out and about.

The feeling will go away. Don’t

stay feeling that way. Believe

that you are the bus driver:

the one who is in full control.

Besides, no one knows you or

your soul better than you do.

Slam on the gas pedal. Embrace

that sound of screeching metal.

Sure, make pit stops here and there.

Just don’t stop for all that long.

Fly down the highway blasting

your favorite song. Feel like you

are under the bus? Grab the wheel

and knock off the dust. Drive. Drive

and drive. It’s time to feel alive.

The Great Exodus

The entire city was on fire.

Flames engulfed each building

and house. After centuries, people

left behind their homes, their old

lives. Traditions, history, stories

faded. Ashes were the only thing

left after everyone left. Although

the fire destroyed the past, hope

filled the hearts of the refugees.

They knew they had to believe.

The people rebuilt and gathered

a new understanding. They moved

to a new spot, and regained all

that was lost. They knew life had

to go on, and they weren’t wrong.

A beautiful new city rose from

the ground. They passed life’s test

once they put the past to rest.

Fragmented

Pieces of the human soul become blended

like potions in a cauldron. The body

houses a soul once whole. Like a puzzle,

pieces of the past stick to new memories.

Love is the glue that holds together

parts of my heart once severed. Days

go on: the present becomes the past. Life

slows down only when we do. It’s true;

the glass we look through is fragmented:

a mosaic of sorts. Lines often blur. Things

don’t seem to fit. There’s a growing list.

You will be okay. Do as you once wished.

last night

Last night seems so far away.

Time has gone by the wayside.

The morning has arrived. Now,

what’s left are memories from

what was done. Time to look

ahead as I build up the courage

to get out of bed. Dreams, sleep,

and time separate last night

from this morning. Now, birds

are singing. Most are soaring.

We never know when last night

will be our last night. Wrong

or right, the transition to day

brings us closer to the light.

Life isn’t promised or guaranteed.

Tonight could be my last night.

Odds are it won’t be. But, life

is unpredictable as entering

the void is inevitable. Still,

I do what I can to love: to fill

my soul with love and passion.

Don’t forget about last night,

but enjoy the morning. Enjoy

the past, the future, the present

before asking where the time went.