I drive, so that I can feel like I’m moving
So that the thoughts that pace the mind-
Can race with the trees and the houses
And fall with the rain and the hail.

I drive, because sometimes silence is unbearable.
So that stillness that widens the space for emptiness-
Can be disrupted by the whistle of the wind
And bound by the lines on paved roads

I drive, because my body sitting stiff doesn’t function
So that my eyes can focus and hands, finding work-
Will operate without questions of their use
And know their success with every turn

I drive, because I want to be alone, but not fully
So that there’s knowledge that the world continues to breathe
While my thoughts are still mine (on the inside)
But can think in perspective of everything living.

I drive, because I need the motions to justify emotions
So that there’s not a feel of entrapment or ownership
Of anything and anyone that comes into my life
So that I know I am moving, and that I am free.

I drive because I can't sit still,
I don't know who I'd be.