Mobility and freedom
beckon, move forward
on four wheels.
Find self frozen
in paths of slowness,
wanting to anticipate
smallest possibilities.
Afraid to contemplate
larger ones, heart
slows, then speeds up
like vehicle
with clogged valves,
or faulty exhaust
system. Revs
at idle, then sputters
when given slightest
hope, stroke
of green light
that winks from top
of hill, where road
disappears
around unknowable
curves that branch
into future.
Whoever said
anticipation was half
the pleasure, was totally
misguided. Blind-sided
by map of imagination,
hit and run down,
never seeing
that reality
also moves on four wheels
and owns a much
larger engine.
Elizabeth Crawford 7/21/09
Soul's Music 