Anticipation of the approaching traffic consumes. The tiny spec grows and develops into the arriving vehicle. 50 miles per and the rapid succession of the coming and those leaving eats quickly at my heart. The pain seers me. Why are these who travel from the direction of my destination passing me by? For miles and miles, they appear to be greeters. The breeze created by their passing chaps my face and I question my goals. How can so many abandon my objective? But flee it they do. My hunger does not diminish and I press on. Of course if we all went this way, we might tip the globe. Maybe that’s what they fear.
Smile with your eyes, laugh with your hands, rest your heart, ease your mind.
Be That Girl
I have tried to protect the investment I made in the past
by selling the soul of my future.
I arrived self-possessed, a winning girl,
but I slid the self from the scene leaving me simply possessed.
I gained everything then lost it a piece at a time
starting with the parts nearest my heart.
I must draw the shards together once more
and mend this lovely crystal.
The art of living is insured by my action
not by grasping at slivers in terror
of what slips from my fingers.
I am what I have inviolate
and all else comes to fruition when I am pleased;
when I am myself.
You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault