Road Weary
My life is on the move and I’m on a road heading South. While a part of me goes deeper, another part goes further and still further from my home, where I’ve left all those things which keep me grounded, keep me humbled, keep me inside the lines and somewhat balanced. The road gives me a jolt before it takes all my energy, and by the end of the day I’m left frazzled and worn out, my thoughts and very being now scattered over the many miles. And I know I’ll never collect all those pieces of me strewn like chunks of rubber on the road. I want to gather myself up, play another travelin’ song, reclaim my life for myself, be the me I endeavored to become when I first left home. But the road is sobering, points to the limitations of life and how my desires will never outlast the miles, and how foolish it would be for me to claim a mountain, or the sunset, or my life, for only myself. There’s a definite rhythm and beat to every itinerant’s song. It usually starts with a lanky kid hitchhiking along a highway, and then ends with an older man, eyes staring into the middle distance, well aware the road has no end.
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