Cargo Lost, Cargo Found

December 30

CARGO LOST, CARGO FOUND

I fill the pallet of a new year's sobriety and, when it has been accomplished, make a manifest and strap this pallet with the others on the flatbed of my life.  The cargo is secure and weighty; there is ample pressure where the rubber meets the road.  I maneuver my rig carefully.  I feel assured as I stream with the traffic on the byways.  The power and magnitude of my transport prompts in me overconfidence.  I fail to realize variation in weather or road conditions can jeopardize my journey. Eighteen wheels make for a poor cantilever when traction is lost and top-heavy wins out.  In losing the battle of gravity, inertia and control I realize the past is not a weight I need to haul; all that is necessary is the inventory.  I slip the pages into my pocket and walk the rest of the way.  I am my only freight.

Medicate with laughter and tears.

*

Can’t Walk Back

I chase my reading list, lose my place, fall down, can’t find my page; suddenly there is a whole library beyond my grasp.  I write as fast as I can and so do my fellows the result is more than I can read in three lifetimes.  The glory and pain of freedom is the constriction of time.  I claw at the minutes but the days slip quickly out of reach.  How can I get the great work poured into my mind while still allowing original thought to flow from me? I ask God if I can be reincarnated with my backlist intact but there is no reply.  I know in my heart this life is like hang-gliding on the beach; my shoes and socks are left behind and I fly off over open sea.  So if we are friends now that is surely grand, but if you want to be my friend later, just take a walk in my shoes. 

Vlog: http://youtu.be/24UpEacsxX4

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Generational River

November 22

Generational River

The history in my genes have cut a channel in the rock of existence; I pour through it everyday.  I too change the face of life one grain at a time, though I rarely recognize my affect I am so busy running.  Damns, ponding, acts of G-d leave their marks for future readings, but I keep moving.  The water is never the same twice; it changes even more than the mineral face and yet its liquid life looks more than unchanged from a distance and is a world filled with variety up close.  Circle the globe, the sun, the sands of time, the river of life flows from here to there and back again.

Bake pies to warm the crisp apples

*

CARGO LOST, CARGO FOUND

I fill the pallet of a New Years sobriety
And when it has been accomplished
Make a manifest and strap this pallet
With the others on the flatbed of my life.

The cargo is secure and weighty
And there is ample pressure
Where the rubber meets the road.
I maneuver my rig carefully.

I feel assured as I stream
With the traffic on the byways.
The power and magnitude of my transport
Prompts in me over confidence.

I fail to realize variation
In weather or road conditions
Can jeopardize my journey.
Eighteen wheels make for poor cantilever
When traction is lost and top heavy wins out.

In losing the battle of gravity,
Inertia and control, I realize the past
Is not a weight I need to haul.
All that is necessary is the inventory.

I slip the pages into my pocket
And walk the rest of the way.
I am my only freight.

You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

Cargo Lost, Cargo Found

December 30

CARGO LOST, CARGO FOUND

I fill the pallet of a new year's sobriety and, when it has been accomplished, make a manifest and strap this pallet with the others on the flatbed of my life.  The cargo is secure and weighty; there is ample pressure where the rubber meets the road.  I maneuver my rig carefully.  I feel assured as I stream with the traffic on the byways.  The power and magnitude of my transport prompts in me overconfidence.  I fail to realize variation in weather or road conditions can jeopardize my journey. Eighteen wheels make for a poor cantilever when traction is lost and top-heavy wins out.  In losing the battle of gravity, inertia and control I realize the past is not a weight I need to haul; all that is necessary is the inventory.  I slip the pages into my pocket and walk the rest of the way.  I am my only freight.

Medicate with laughter and tears.

*

Can’t Walk Back

I chase my reading list, lose my place, fall down, can’t find my page; suddenly there is a whole library beyond my grasp.  I write as fast as I can and so do my fellows the result is more than I can read in three lifetimes.  The glory and pain of freedom is the constriction of time.  I claw at the minutes but the days slip quickly out of reach.  How can I get the great work poured into my mind while still allowing original thought to flow from me? I ask God if I can be reincarnated with my backlist intact but there is no reply.  I know in my heart this life is like hang-gliding on the beach; my shoes and socks are left behind and I fly off over open sea.  So if we are friends now that is surely grand, but if you want to be my friend later, just take a walk in my shoes. 

Miraculous

December 3

MIRACULOUS

Sometimes the blind lead the deaf.  The subtle signs are the bumping into trouble and inability to listen to reason.  It is an expedition into disaster unfettered by common sense or boundaries.  Tumbles and falls propel this pairing to unknown destinations.  The attraction is baffling but undeniable.  These pairs can be seen through the ages.  In spite of this confounding coupling, sometimes the blind find their way and the deaf hear the call.  And even when they don’t, life seems to roll along.  But try to keep your eyes and ears open anyway.

Set the goalpost where you can see it.

*

Precious Cargo

Do I carry myself as well as I could?

Do I understand the value

of what is contained within me?

This journey matters,

it requires my attention and comprehension,

if only I am able.

When I fall short the road changes.

The distance I go has much to do with how well

and whether I acknowledge the nature of the cargo

with which I am embedded.