Riverside Drive

"You deserve the greatest of things"...

words that ring in the distance of my memories

by some water's edge.

This is my place of sorrow, my place of worship.

I've come here again to reconcile my past

and shed light on the road ahead.

One year ago I walked here, hand in hand,

ready to run away with someone I knew once.

One year again has brought transformation in me.

The shadow of a person I barely recognize today

is walking away down river's end into

a cascading, waterfall, wintertime scene.

I think that maybe I've followed him down

this path many times before and only now,

as I stop to look around and take notice

of the quiet serenity and empty solace that

this path brings, do I begin to realize that

I've come far enough. It's time I turn around

and retrace my steps to a place that I can trust.

Something I can put my hands on and feel like I belong.

It's getting colder now as I walk. Funny that I

wouldn't feel warmer as I progressed.

I think I'll turn back to the car and grab a jacket-

I'll have to fight the urge to drive away unconsciously

before I've taken in everything I set out to accomplish here.

Much like the every-now-and-then's that I take,

deep in a daze with the radio pulsating some trance beat

as I take in the strange sensations around me.

There are always chimes in the sunlight,

a piano whispering on the branches.

Always deep adoration for the suffering of Earth,

great joy in the promise of new life to be reborn.

All of this asking me to be fierce

and stand with a raised fist

while at the same time tranquil and collected.

All of this because Nature speaks in ways that nothing

or no one else can. She is my consort and my aid,

I can always lay with Her and feel a part of myself

coming back to me again.

I often wonder what the wind is blowing off of me

as it does so often here in the dead, December days

while I stand in a deep, hypnotizing breath,

gazing out over the banks, collecting new and unfiltered

remnants of my home. The leaves are hearded across

the grass as I watch; it makes me smile to know

that so many things still continue to work tirelessly,

always in motion, while it is I who seems

to stand still for so long.

I've come across a small waterhole and the water

that trickles to the bottom reminds me of the many

storm-time showers that blanket my thoughts.

Though a storm beckons in the distance,

I feel that warmth within that I've been

waiting for since I arrived.

The drive home is before me and

I'm thinking of better days...

but none so pleasant as today.