The Road was Darker

The Road was Darker

(“My life is stuck in the dirt. Now make me live again according to your promise!” Psalm 119:25)

The road was darker than usual
and I was unsure about the corners that wound
through the hills. I had spent the day wishing the
sun would shine more brilliantly to drive the
sludge away from my mind.

I had sat in the middle of incomplete and
run-on sentences that wanted to be certain that
I served my time.

And so, I left that small circle that surrounded me
with more weight than I could carry.
The night had fallen and I only wanted to find
somewhere that felt like home.

They were made of dust and so was I. But
beyond the wall of rocks they built to teach me
who to exclude,
they were certain they were building a temple when
instead
it was armory always preparing for war.

My anxiety grew, my skin turned white,
my voice caught in the back of my throat.
Mark my words, I had no syllables to say that
would make a way out of the imprisoned improvisations
that used “no” in ways that nonsense never heard.

There was no one who knew everything about me
so I set out from there on an excursion through the
night that might land me somewhere that left my
humanity alone. I wanted to find a place where
I could close my eyes and know that no one stole
my story while I was not looking.

I found a place to fill my lungs and revive my
fainted heart. Just outside of town there were circles
within circles and tables laden with bread and honey.
I pulled up with my lights on and tested the ground
to see if it would hold the full weight of me.
I turned off the engine and took my time examining the
lightly designed coffee cups being filled for vagabonds like me.