Dec 2014
Maybe this will happen, maybe that.
Maybe the day will come when we will finally arrive, and just maybe we will sit back and smile about from where we have come.
Maybe when we smile it will be at all the choices we made to do the things we did to get to where we are—here, maybe scathed, maybe *****, maybe even both, but alive.
Maybe we can take that drive we talked of, hit the road to nowhere with nothing but the Sun in our faces and the backseat over shoulders.
Maybe a random search will find that song we listened to when we talked about things we never knew about each other because we’d only just met. When it plays maybe your hand that’s on my shoulder will move and squeeze with tenderness the back of my neck because we’re stirred by the now not so random song that we listened to often way back when. And if it doesn’t play, maybe the search will reveal another. One that in years to come will be the song that will take us back to when we travelled the road to nowhere, and then we’ll have two.
Maybe when we get to nowhere we’ll be now-here, and find that beach we never knew existed and we will walk it, leave footprints in the sand and watch how they disappear in the tide as if we too never existed.
And what of that bach on the hill? Maybe that’s where we’ll hold one strap each on the bag that contains all the things we need, yours at one end and mine at the other.
Maybe we’ll sleep in the bedroom, maybe on the deck where we’ll see stars that we’ve never seen in the city because here, where it is darker, things are much brighter.
Maybe if the night is cold and the rain thrums we’ll be reminded that there is no place that we would rather be than right here, beneath the blankets, in whatever part of the bach on the hill we end up, near empty glasses just over there where we started, and not an ounce of space between us, only love.
Maybe, as the night stills, we will muse amid the silence and wonder at what tomorrow will bring or maybe we’ll turn inward and smile at what we’ve just done, and our eyes will say, “let’s never arrive.”
Maybe the day will come when we will finally arrive, and just maybe we will sit back and smile about from where we have come.
Maybe when we smile it will be at all the choices we made to do the things we did to get to where we are—here, maybe scathed, maybe *****, maybe even both, but alive.
Maybe we can take that drive we talked of, hit the road to nowhere with nothing but the Sun in our faces and the backseat over shoulders.
Maybe a random search will find that song we listened to when we talked about things we never knew about each other because we’d only just met. When it plays maybe your hand that’s on my shoulder will move and squeeze with tenderness the back of my neck because we’re stirred by the now not so random song that we listened to often way back when. And if it doesn’t play, maybe the search will reveal another. One that in years to come will be the song that will take us back to when we travelled the road to nowhere, and then we’ll have two.
Maybe when we get to nowhere we’ll be now-here, and find that beach we never knew existed and we will walk it, leave footprints in the sand and watch how they disappear in the tide as if we too never existed.
And what of that bach on the hill? Maybe that’s where we’ll hold one strap each on the bag that contains all the things we need, yours at one end and mine at the other.
Maybe we’ll sleep in the bedroom, maybe on the deck where we’ll see stars that we’ve never seen in the city because here, where it is darker, things are much brighter.
Maybe if the night is cold and the rain thrums we’ll be reminded that there is no place that we would rather be than right here, beneath the blankets, in whatever part of the bach on the hill we end up, near empty glasses just over there where we started, and not an ounce of space between us, only love.
Maybe, as the night stills, we will muse amid the silence and wonder at what tomorrow will bring or maybe we’ll turn inward and smile at what we’ve just done, and our eyes will say, “let’s never arrive.”
