This Life is a Road
This Life is a Road... ...and there’s something about a road That calls for going. “But where?” you ask, And I have asked the same, and I have passed A million others I know would die to know If we have found an answer: Passed them in little red roadsters zipping across The interstate in the throes of midlife crisis, in grumbling trucks Acquainted with the botoxed dancers At seedy truck-stop bars, Passed them in loaded station wagons lost Along a country road or stuck In traffic headed East or West. I’ve come to doubt this something is found in the destination, For always upon my own arrivals I sense The often subtle summons of the road to home, A summons irrespective of where I’ve arrived; I sense the asphalt invitation To go where I belong, to drive Again the roads I longed to roam And stay where I am loved, yet all the while knowing In time I’ll only find aga