My spiritual journey has been a weary walk
Into the unknown where sins talk.
My next step I can only see beyond my nose;
In the dark, I crawl on my knees and toes.
Beyond walls painted with indecency
I tread on, hoping I am on course.
Voices of deceit call on for me to see
How gloomy where I was heading was.
I took another route, one less taken
Covered with guises, goodies but mistaken
To be work, for it's draped in overalls
Especially when the divine messenger calls.
Now halfway to the place I seek
Where morality and godliness peak
I walk with vigor and purpose
For to the promised land I'm close.
You opened the side door,
it was autumn back home,
something said you might love me,
the way i wanted it then,
and we drove around the countryside,
while your phone just kept ringing,
and you put it aside.
A man's voice was yelling,
on the old answering machine,
saying
"What are you doing?"
and you turned it down low.....
I came back to see you three more times,
right before
my daddy died,
and everytime i left
I sat down and cried,
til one day you told me
the man's jealousy roared
making you miserable,
it couldn't be ignored,
then I saw you for one fleeting
moment,
a hug on the cusp
of summer solstice,
that steady rock of winter
once more dissolved
like a ghost
of a Christmas past,
I saw your Hawaiian shirt
a banner of color,
a relentless enigma
in the corner
of daddy's funeral,
til you said if we had breakfast
it would have to be on route one,
tucked away from any eyes
who might tell
that raging voice
on the phone
with the accent
from South America
that you just might
have a secret.
Those who want to enter heaven;
Avoid passing through roundabouts
Never use fly-overs
Fear to choose short-cuts
The road to heaven is within you
It is a fixed route-one road one person
and one vehicle
the rig sails on
the captain at the wheel
steel billowed crosswinds
and Willie's gruff twang
come back...maybe not flip-flop
rigs riggin' is sailin', movin'
waving goodbye to yesterday
I'm a stowaway into today
ahead is clear horizon
aft is crewed distant past
the ropes taut, creaking
and diseal's low rumble below
port is where we're headed
starboard is starry shafts
stern relentlessly unappeasable
riding the waves bowed
someday I'll tighten up
swigging the anchor line
laying roots off of route one
but at present, rig's tackin'
we're decked out directly
hauling freight, liners for
what in life we're lackin'
so, harden up to the wind
crestin' hill, descendin' trough
this rollercoaster ride of life
keeps sailin' on to skyline
just the mate 'n' the captain
© Goode Guy 2011-05-20
1 come back / flip-flop
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_CB_slang
2. swigging
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nautical_terms#S
3. harden up
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nautical_terms#H
4
down a hilly route one huge log of wood
staring at the face both gazelle & her friend
like a bridge of test for an old wisdom bag
then climbeth old tortoise with many a lag
struggling to smuggle his bag over the log
at last lay he beside his bag & by the log!
“old tortoise, the wise!” exclaim’d the other
“thot you’ve gotten enough wisdom to trade
seeing a huge bag inherited from your father
& for this voyage to the field to be well made
first drop the bag on that log for an ease of entry
& having crossed the bag the wise gains the entry!”
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