I AM FAR AWAY,
in the company of greatness
and gentle souls,
cell signal left somewhere on a West Texas highway.
Not trying to capture every last word people say.
What’s needed will stick.
Not worrying,
whatever I am doing
maybe I ought to be doing something else.
Not trying to nail down any answers.
Not checking the time.
They will ring a bell to gather us in.
Not feeling pressed to be anything I’m not.
A Grammy winner
not 20 feet from me
sings of a man
pedaling toward his destination
undistracted
not waiting for breaking news,
just keep going on,
I say yes, that’s right. That’s it.
To get to this place
you don’t cross a river,
you travel in it.
The river IS the road.
Get the tires right down there
and move along with it.
I didn’t know
a year ago
when I said,
“Next year I’m definitely going there“
just how much I would need to.
And this truth alone comforts,
a reminder that things are under control,
and not mine.
Packing for this weekend,
I went with shirts I usually leave behind
the ones that show too much what I’m trying to hide.
And isn’t that just the perfect way to come?
