Before the End of the Road

November 5

BEFORE THE END OF THE ROAD

Before the end of the road tiny stone lay on the side, freshly painted lines glimmer in this twilight trance.  Walking the macadam, the crunch underfoot changes my perspective.  No steering wheel or accelerator, this is ankle express all the way.  Walking the road step by step, on my own, I am part of the soft and growing world progressing on a plan of separate integrity.  Moist, lush wonder is missed by the motor speedway I let rule my life.  Honeyed sweetness covers the vegetation swaying in the undulating airborne pulse.  I am tempted to lie down and have a roll, but my role tonight is to reach the end of the road.  When my goal is achieved I may choose a woodland life or an urban endeavor.  Seeing the end of this path is job enough for now.  Decisions anticipated prior to arrival are foolish diversions.  I need to stay, not stray, with the dancers in the wind.

Execute the detractors in your mind.

*

Let the Groundhog Sing It

Mistakes and poor choices save me

from attempting to climb out onto moral high ground.

Moral ambiguity keeps me protected

from the illusion of relentless righteousness.

Lopsided living is a fate I am spared

due to my flawed execution of perfection;

all in a day’s work for a functional human.

Left by the wayside is the fantasy that I am all right.

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

Circular Needles

June 14

Circular Needles

I react badly when I find a loose thread because I never know what might be unraveling.  I have knit my heart out; have dropped an occasional stitch to be sure.  Unbeknown to me these little holes in my logic wait for the stress of overextension to run through the length of my life, untying earnest work.  If I could catch these unsecured thoughts before it all goes too far, I might have a chance to hook back into the main fabric and prevent this unfurling of collateral.  When the cord is cut and the line flaps freely real panic ensues.  Even if capture of both ends is possible, knots are awkward, unseemly and gauche.  I was planning a seamless life, smooth and beyond reproach.  My fear of reprisal flares before the ever-burning coals of abject self-doubt have a chance to be felt. This banked inferno generates the things which bake and fry my nerves, burn my threads and disintegrate my mantle.  I need to put out the fire before I re-knit my world.

Teach desire to breathe

*

TOO FAR, TOO FAST

Balloons filled with hydrogen

Race the atmosphere and fly away

The effect is stunning

So much lift for just pennies

The easy way has no line, no waiting

Fast dirty service is available

Risk assessment is counter-balanced

With dramatic outcome

Low initial cost and instant gratification.

How can I not want to rise above the crowd?

How can I not want it now?

Hydrogen is quick and plentiful,

Volatile, yes but why should this bother me?

I have a Higher Power to protect me

It’s not as if I were playing with fire,

I am only tempting it!