I let the answer go.
It flew across the meadow and away.
Really, just gone like that.
This much we share.
I wasn’t sure what to do next.
You must have felt the same.
Life was now vast and wild.
Every step, a risk and reward.
Such hesitation. Such sudden joy.
No one told me being lost was the voice
of both salvation and fear.
Everything and everywhere singing.
The creek cooling stones in late August heat.
That fair complexion of a stranger shopping beside me.
Invisible wind. Smothering pavement.
Colors that so suddenly turn holy.
The touch that brings tears.
So many songs I try to understand.
We all do.
If there is a heaven and hell,
they must converse about our searching,
the lost and found of us, our ride sharing then driving on so alone,
the puddles we skip over one time and stomp through the next.
Steve Crowley
Steve Crowley lives at the end of a valley surrounded by the forested Taunus Mountains. Recently he published The Last Time Mechanic, continues working to stay open to nature’s wonders, and loves to wander aimlessly.