It’s Raining and I’m a Long Way From Home
the mizzle begins
to wet our faces
and my t-shirt
i stop the old Harley
beneath the underpass
before i make the long winding trek
into the rockies and beyond
shall i stop or shall i go?
a question i’ve asked
a hundred times
as if tlaloc
will answer me
i gaze upward
to find some clue
to what the future holds
for two open-air travelers
who have but one raincoat
yet all i see
is an evergreen mountain
regal and powerful and tall
whose peaks i cannot see
for the sinister black raincloud
has chopped off its head
we wait
and we laugh
to fend off our fear
which we must not show
for surely then the mongrel
shall envelop us in its deluge
and eat us.
she snaps shut the rain suit
and mounts the pad behind me
with a hug that’s tighter and different
i point the old bike into the blackness
like a sword
Somewhere Beyond the Sea
when i stand at the sea
and look westward
something ancient
and organic occurs within
an essence of promise or hope
of something else out there
that’s richer and purer
and beckons me
if only i will come
i have never been saddened
by the setting of the western sun
rather tears of joy in the knowing
that my sunset is the sunrise
of another shore
silently and powerfully
i am beckoned
by the blissful warmth
of what lies beyond
the rolling cold of the sea
and if i look just right
i can see and feel
a thousand ancestors
in two perfectly endless rows
one row looking seaward
the other gazing back
like standing alone
between two mirrors
then it comes to me
i am their proxy
they have stood in this place
and felt what i feel
as they yearned across the ocean
to the setting of the western sun
beautifully written, sensei! JimC
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