Then I notice the roads I’m on
Crossing roads I’ve been before
Routes crossing routes
Angles crossing angles
Like a wheat field reaped
By a crazed harvester
Like raindrops in a whirlwind
And I’m left with the old question
And left with the question of the old
Where did my life go
Where did my way go
Routes crossing roads
Wind-driven rain
A crazed reaper somewhere
And me still loose
Me still going
Under a dizzying sky
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Then I notice the roads
I’m on
Crossing roads
I’ve been before
Routes crossing routes
Angles crossing angles
I’ve crossed those shoulders and shouldered those crosses before. Why am I tar-baby stuck? Are there still so many lessons to learn? I love the rain, nurturing, soft … but not this dense torrent that slams down on me out of the sky.
I’m not Catholic, so why do I wonder if I’m being punished for some long ago wrong? I know - everyone seeks a why. I’m no different. Nothing special there. I need to refocus on the road ahead. All those crossings serve a purpose but none is THE purpose.
Listen, understand, process, drive on. I can do that. Crap, I’ve done it so many times already. And lest we forget to punish the optimist, let's make her suffer – because I expect the positive, those challenges always broadside. Ambush. Gotcha. Again. Just once I’d like to whack one back on its heels. Just once smack and say, Get thee behind me. Let me move on.
But eventually I always settle back into my reality. I’m here to grow and learn, here to serve. That doesn’t come in a box of Cracker Jacks. Hard won is the name of that game. So I gird my heart and prepare to say no – or better still, nothing – when a hundred primal instincts murmur - Say yes, just say yes, you know you’ll feel way better when you say yes. But the challenge is denying myself the Yes. And so I shall. And I’ll feel relieved and guilty … and then move on down the road trying to be more alert to the next crossing.
...keep going, keep moving, keep discovering the unknown places within your clouded self...
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