The Story as a Stowaway
I want to tell you a story, but I want to tell it to you quickly, so I can give it to you and then you can carry it on your way. For what good is my story to you if you must leave it where it lay? Your need to be elsewhere presses on us both and I wish to give you what you can take rather than to try to stall you here for an epic you might never lift and certainly not dream of dragging along. I want you to be on your way and take a part of me with you. I wish to sew myself in your mind; tether my tale to your soul. I believe in forward motion and the need to carry on. Where you’re going I can’t go on my own but I know that if I am funny, quick and lite, part of me goes even to the end of your world and my hope is to help you make it bright.
Apprentice yourself to collaboration
Sometimes the blind lead the deaf.
The subtle signs are the bumping into trouble
And the inability to listen to reason.
It is an expedition into disaster.
Unfettered by common sense or boundaries
Tumbles and falls propel this pairing
To unknown destinations.
The attraction is baffling but undeniable.
These pairs can be seen through the ages.
In spite of this confounding coupling
Sometimes the blind find their way
And the deaf hear the call.
Even when they don’t life seems to roll along
But try to keep your eyes and ears open anyway.
You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault