An Ordinary Mystic

The road of responsibility runs through my heart
littered with the roadkill of my emotions,
run over by obligations, run over in the line of duty,
run over and left to die, on the concrete desert
covering the contours and surfaces of my soul.

I am an eviscerated mind hurtling along a highway
calculating the shortest point between the lines of authority
composed of quirks and quarks, blinking and spinning
the space-time cloth from infinite possibilities
one step ahead to nowhere.

I have a map but there are no exits
so what's the rush, sooner or later
you get everywhere traveling forever,
anywhere you choose, picking and choosing reality,
ordering each moment from an infinite invisible menu
written in a secret language, in a diner on the turnpike to tomorrow
where a strangely compelling stranger, in the next booth
rises to leave, before awakening to resume the journey.

© Copyright 2004 Don Anderson (UN: ordinarymystic at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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