Poems from the road need some revision, but I thought I would post them anyway. After I wrote them, I tried to write a bit of The Crystal Sword, ignoring the awe-inspiring craggy cliffs and open sea views of the Sea to Sky highway north of Vancouver. Twisting turns that squeeze between the cliffs and the shoreline wound a knot in my stomach, and a fuzziness in my head.
Never before have I been so thankful for a road construction stop. I rolled down my window and gasped in gulps of fresh mountain air to tame the excruciating car sickness. Finally, I wised up, shut down my laptop, and appreciated the amazing views. Sometimes God has to get my attention with anything that works, jerking me back to reality with car sickness, road stops, inspiring vistas.
I haven't written anything about those awe-inspiring sights, but I did write some poetry earlier today from the start of our car trip.
Over-stuffed bags and scribbled lists
Books, and passports,
A well-loved teddy bear
A house standing open to the air.
Searching for that last thing, and saying goodbye
We’ve made our reservations.
“Did we forget the kitchen sink, a toothbrush, our socks?”
We’ll know when we get to our destination.
Thoughts from an Open Road
Open road stretches out
ahead of us, flickering light
glints off shiny cars ahead
and rivers of water that pass under the roadway.
The power lines stand like strong men,
holding up the electrical support of thousands,
while we drive alongside, into a new country
Not our own, but similar enough to be deceptive.
Canada feels like an old family friend, especially here
just across the border, but the road signs are wrong,
and the land is surprisingly rural for a place
outside a city. In the US we like our sprawl
of suburbia more than our lonely fields.
Next to the Puget Sound where we live,
businesses thrive, but here the fields
meet the sea in a vast stretch of open
that invites the imagination.
The land where we vacation
may allow these musings more
than the land where I work, love,
raise my family, and found my every
day walking around life. A seagull flies
over the freeway, but we do
have a number of those at home,
along with Canadian geese on
vacations of their own.
Water bottles and snacks
Dog-eared books, and a candy wrapper,
The hum of tires on the road,
Each city we pass is like a new chapter.
Listening, and looking,
Letting the maps slip from our grip,
“Are we there yet?”
All this makes for a good road trip.