As I grow fonder
Of the wander
and I wonder
How much longer
Will I wander.
I’ve spent a lot of my life afraid…afraid of everything. Afraid of life.
A lot of that life hiding in books and daydreams.
And looking for love and acceptance
Or maybe looking for me.
Somewhere along the way I disappeared
I hid my true self and adopted the self others thought were best
Pretending to be what they wanted
And ignoring the little voice crying in my mind.
I’ve been slowly chipping away at those layers
Layers of other personalities
of other people’s versions of me
And like a chick breaking out of its shell
Stretching for freedom
I have found me.
And I refuse to hide again for anyone.
Down the highway
Through the canyons
Where spirits soar
In the gusting winds
Swirling their way
Through my mind
Through the trees
Through the passing cars
As I try to find my way
Back to the memories
Back to the imagination
Back to where I belong
Very few things capture the imagination like trains. How many of us have dreamed of hopping a train to points unknown. Woody Guthrie and Merle Haggard rode the rails. Songs like “City of New Orleans”, “Orange Blossom Special” and “Rock Island Line” and many many others perpetuate the dream. Paul Theroux wrote of his adventures traveling through Europe and Asia by train.
For me, the allure of the train has always been the travel. Going somewhere, anywhere is an exciting notion to me. Trains have the added benefit of just being cool. The rhythmic motion and sounds as it passes fire up my imagination. Grabbing hold and swinging into a boxcar, standing at the open door, feeling the wind in my hair and the rails beneath my feet…
I know the realities are not as romantic as they seem. I have seen photographic images of hobos, both from Woody Guthrie’s days and modern day. Not a pretty image at all.
But to quote Dierks Bentley in his song, “Train Travelin'”
“Am I a fool to think it glamorous
Box-carrin’ like a hobo, it must have been rough
But a simpler way of life is what it really means to me
When we weren’t so dependent on money to be free”
I realize I am not the only one to find trains fascinating. They are a window to the past as well as an awaiting adventure.
On the Wings of an Eagle
Catching a hold of a bit of wild
The wing of an eagle
Who carries me, unbidden
Farther than I have ever been
Circling over majestic mountaintops
Higher and higher
Into azure so sharp, tears spring to my eyes
Spiraling, passion swirling
Soaring on the currents
His strength bearing me
Protecting me, caressing me
Carrying me to his treetop aerie
Back I lay
Eyes wide open
Sightless, soundless, boneless
Outstretched, reaching for a piece of heaven
The first glimmer of the eventide begins
Softly slowly the blue fades
Slipping sliding down
Colors changing behind closed lids
Golds to oranges to reds
White-hot heat seeking out clouds to inflame
Colors burning into one another
In a ferocious race to outdo each other
Passionate streaks across the deepening sky
Blazing inferno of orgasmic hues
Cooling to rich purples and blue
Clouds dissipating in steamy drifts
Twinkling stars bidding goodnight
To another day