As always with newer poetry, the editing process continues. Refined only once, I would welcome comments and suggestions, or opinions on how to make this poem flow even more smoothly.

To Jessamay, word-sketch artist extraordinaire. Congrats, my friend.

The Other Side of the Road

Words.
They amaze me sometimes.
I read the thoughts of a friend �
condensed song, purified emotion,
and must marvel.
She is where I want to be,
and I am happy for her.
Though her journey is far from complete,
and she would laugh to hear me.

But things are coming clear,
this wanderer is slowly learning.
It�s amazing what you hear once you become silent.
And I have.
Can you imagine going a day without speech?
A week?
Time stretches away and vanishes.
This I have done,
am doing,
will do.
When I do speak, compelled to talk,
I wish I hadn�t.
Broken mirrors, these moments.
I have lost the knack of conversation,
what little I had.
But, I can sing now.
I lift my voice, then laugh.
I surround myself with music,
and dance.
Distilled down to myself,
The weight of words and masks
are rocks I dropped by the wayside.
Can you imagine the sheer freedom
of being unknown?
A stranger in a new place �
there�s no one as unbound.
Where preconceived notions slide away,
because I don�t know you enough to allow them.
And if you look at me oddly
as I ride my bike, singing,
why should I care?
Explanations are chains I�ve tossed away.
Speech is a stone I won�t lift,
refusing to be dragged down.
Song is the framework of my wings,
laughter the supporting wind.
I have begun shrugging off my spirit�s weights,
and as I speed down the road, ocean breeze in my face,
song in my throat, laughter in my eyes,
I could swear any minute
I will fly.

We are all at the mercy of forever,
and as I sit over pasta,
marking time until returning to work,
I tip my cap in unseen salute
to she who shares the other side of the road.

� 1998 [email protected]