Days blend together, rest is hard to come by. Not due to the lack of tire, but due to the desire to find a better life. A road that doesn’t feel so weary. Storms come and go with the days, but they don’t affect me any longer, at least not like they used to. I’ve been soaked, I’ve dried, I’ve been soaked again. My feet are calloused now from the miles and miles of endless winding road since travelled. Clothes tattered and worn by the countless night lying awake under the forest trees, for cover. I’ve spent contemplative evenings and reflective mornings atop wet grasses, wet leaves, pine needs fallen from old growth canopy which hath shrouded a tremendous Spring. Passed remnants of past self, given advice only wistful fellow heed. Behind dark shadow of blackberry bush been beckoned by sirens call. I’ve stumbled, tripped, fallen countless time to my knees. Tried and tried again to stay true to the road, even when times felt hopeless. Many times felt hopeless. I’ve conquered the moss-covered stony brick walls. Overcame each obstacle which had fallen in my path. Shed tear for those whom gave up along the way. This long and winding road seems to bring out a quiet desperation in myself and other. Prayed for those who had turned back, turned inward at the internal realization that doom was all to be had in Spring. All to be gained, lost peoples whom gave way to the storm. At a certain point, even I feel like Summer may never come. Worry seeps into me as the rain soaked through my britches. With each step taken, another follows. Others follow, wallow in hallow horrors as rain pours in this dark and lonely world. It may never end. It may never cease. This road feels like not like home, yet I’ve been so long calling it so. I struggle through Spring for eternity. One evening I lay beside a stump, rest my heavy heart and whimper as an incredibly rough storm rages overhead. Claps of thunder are dueling each other, to be more ravenous than the last, like a war in the skies. Fueling sides of a dispute, a quarrel mirrored within me between longing for change and doubt of its arrival. A riot in the skies. “I get a feeling there’s gonna be a riot”. Falling asleep I can’t help but think, “Bring it on, ’cause there’s gonna be some shit tonight!” At this point, nothing phases me. It doesn’t matter if I sleep anyway, “Tomorrow never comes until it’s too late”. Lightening strikes, the boldest, brightest dash of light curses downward and pierces through the stump I lay beside. It’s ravenous thunder sounds, deafens my senses at dawn. I’m lucky to survive such a close encounter with a force more powerful than God themselves. The crack of the supercharged particles raises each follicle of hair and rattles every bone in my frame. I can taste the burning sensation in the air, smell the charred wood from the stump smoldering anear. Without a doubt, this was loudest and most violent of storms in weeks. What a truly terrific bombardment to initiate another day of travel. “Tomorrow is another day, Today is another bomb.” Somehow, however, I’m still not fully awake yet. Drowned in a subtle dream state leftover from the eve. A nightmare wore on into morn, clinging onto my psyche, as if I had arisen lucid. Uncertain of reality in this moment, I ask myself, “Are you alive or are you dead?” “What time is it?”
When I finally come to my senses, I’m visibly upset. The lucid nightmare eerily resembled the unfortunate reality. Spring hath stripped me to my core. Frustrated by the fact that I’ve had to travel so far from Winter and still be awoken by storms, I violently shake in place and my pound my fists into the softened turf. The thought of Winter creeps into my mind. Before I hasten to stand, a particularly pungent memory wafts through my mental and stings my nostrils. “How dare you drag my name in the dirt and cheat. You could’ve broke it off, ended it and dipped. And if you spoke us off, we could’ve still preserved the friendship. Now you apologize, that’s what they all say”, “And just to think, I used to be proud of you. And you had some real good power.”
Of course, this repulsive memory only frustrates me more. In a brief moment of tremendous anger I shout into the sky, begging for change. “It’s high time now, just one crack at life. Who wants to live in trouble and strife”. I understand where I’ve been, and I know that I had no doing in the cause for such an awful Winter. “Oh! Young hearts run free”. As many a time before, all I can do is turn this frustration into positive energy. A reminder that this day is just another on the long and winding road of growth and development. Knowledge that said nightmare best left all behind. Energy spent better to focus on myself as I’ve done throughout Spring. “Oh! Young hearts. To yourself be true. Don’t be no fool when love really don’t love you” I’m in my head, a reminder rings, “Love only breaks up to start over again”. This self reassurance guides me to my feet. At the end of the day, at the end of each and every day that has taken me through Spring, I know, “My mind must be free to learn all I can about me.” If anything, this Spring has taught me, all I know to get me moving forward is the simple fact that, “I’m gonna love me for the rest of my days”. What I actually hadn’t realized until this point, due to the seemingly continuous monotony of each Spring day, was the fact that the storms themselves had become less and less frequent. The sun freed from its cloudy imprisonment more in recent days than weeks past. I just couldn’t quite tell the difference due to the heavy tree cover of my own deep focus. This great storm that had violently awoken me that day, that cacophony, was to be the last storm of Spring.
Slowly, I dredge forward again. Upset, but clear minded. Taking all that energy and effortlessly transforming it into momentum, steps in the right direction. “We need some more oil for the machines to burn, learn” This new person I’m building has an unfortunately dark back story that can be leveraged when necessary to push in times of struggle. Honestly, it feels like Winters past have culminated and blended together in a way that makes it feel like they’ve been there since birth. “Villain since a itsy bitsy zygote” Others along the road can see it when I pass by, “They supposed to know, it show when his aura glow”. Nothing about my pace and stride has changed, but for some reason today, others are looking. “Flow skill, still, there’s no thrill”. “Keep walkin”
They’re staring, I have no idea why. Something must be shining about me today that I haven’t yet recognized. Is it the way I am carrying myself? Did they hear my earlier outburst? Perhaps it’s the fact that I’m still audibly growling over the frustration at the length of this Spring. “Do what ya gotta do, grrah” Makes sense, I’d be eyeing myself too. “Rings a Tinkerbell, sing for things that’s frail as a fingernail” A few try to stop me and ask what the hell is going on, why am I moving with such ferocity, they seem to think alike me: that this road is never ending. I stop not to discuss, only keep moving forward seeking solace at the end of the road, if there is to be an end. “Don’t expect to see the recipe, until we receive the check as well as the collection fee” Within my own, I wonder the same things. Ask myself the same frivolous questions. But I don’t let it stop me from continuing on my mission. Perhaps this Spring will never end because It was such a long time since Autumn, and Winter was so particularly harsh? I know not. “Can it be I stayed away too long? Did you miss these rhymes when I was gone?” But today is different, I can start to feel it now. These people don’t have any clue that just around the corner is salvation. Nor did I when I started my day. The ignorance evaporated as trees cleared. A few steps later brought me into discovery. The road. It does end. Just ends. Before me a meadow. No more road? Little did I know, but the rains of spring were in fact growing great fields of flowers. It just so happened that the wooded winding road I was on didn’t permit such incredible growth as to what lay before me. The shroud of tree cover restricted any such growth as what filled my horizon now. Wildflowers had been growing all along in the recent days of sunshine, watered by the torrential storms. I can’t believe my eyes. It just ends? Just like that? “And that’s That”
Blindly I stumble into the meadows of flowers. In a confused stupor. Wandering around in complete shock. All I’ve known since Winter was the long and winding road. There was always an obvious path forward. Now there’s no path at all. Honestly, the lack of familiarity and direction brings me great fear. How am I supposed to know where to go? “Movin’ motionless through this masquerade” As I take a few steps into this meadow, I notice there are in fact faint paths heading in various directions. They are not paved, but they are obviously previously travelled. “Blaze trails that haven’t been traveled in a while” I figure, take the path that feels most right in this moment. Which is a way that guides me toward a sound. A distant arousal of song. This song in which I haven’t yet heard on my travels, I know not what it could be. Whether it will be good or bad for me, I haven’t a clue, but I think to myself, “If you scared to die then you scared to live”. I didn’t know that I was walking into a trap. The song was a distraction, another plot of sirens call that was taking me off course. Inevitably, I wandered the wrong direction. “It started with a passion, that’s just the way it happened” Even though my heart pulled me in this direction, it doesn’t mean it was right for me. What I hadn’t realized was that just like the winding road, this meadow would also provide temptation. Instead of wallowing in the wrong choice of path, I take that accident and use it to my advantage. Like a thief, I steal the song that tempted me and hold onto it as I change course. Blaze a new trail in the opposite direction. It makes me think. “I wonder, how certain things don’t go right”. This song I now take with me actually strengthens my morale, “No matter how hard they try, they can’t stop us now”. Softly, I sing it to myself as I continue forward along my Journey. Afterall, “In the Krazy World, get it where you fit in”. The flowers in the meadow are tall, but not too tall for me to be blind to the fact that there are a few others moving through the lush. I sing to them, “It’s all about me, all about you”. They know the song. They sing back. It gets me thinking, “I wonder, how certain people come in my life”.
There’s no “forward” on this Journey now, yet I continue on. Instead of a definitive path, I am blazing my own through this meadow. Allowing myself to find the best way through the colorful flowers that surround me. Taking care to not trample any of the beautifully wondrous growth. “I strive to be humble, lest I stumble” Still in a bit of shock that the road has ended. The sun is beating down on me in a way I haven’t felt before. The air around me is humid, fragrance from the flowers strikes me as novel. Another novelty arouses my senses, hunger. I must had been so focused on moving through the forest along the winding road that I hadn’t noticed the undeniable need of fueling my body. “Food, we need food!” “Even when it’s rotten, we’ve gotten through the hard years.” Problem is, there’s nothing around to eat. I wonder where I can find food in this meadow. “Whether is it animal, vegetable or mineral” Ahead, peeking out of the tall grasses is a tree, the only tree within view. Strange I think, but it draws me near. As I approach I notice this isn’t just any tree, it’s a fruit tree. I know not the fruit, I truly know not of fruit. But my instinct is strong, it leads me to pick the fruit and eat it. A shout comes right as I take a bite, from where I do not know. It calls, “Poison, leave it alone!” “Give it a sec for the pain to start”. Oh no. I can’t be sure of the sincerity of the individual that called to me. But I’m so hungry, so determined, I eat the whole fruit anyway. “I’d rather go out in a blaze than give ’em the glory”. When finished, another voice echoes through the misty meadow, “Good health to you all”. “Patience is a virtue, pain run deep when love desert you”. Confused by the conflicting voices I chose to trust myself and stock a few fruit for whatever future lies ahead of me. “Intuition, maybe it was me, I couldn’t see. Holding onto fantasy, getting bitten by reality” I shout back, “Keep your mouth shut, everything will be beautiful” That silences the voices, they must think to themselves, “He could be some kind of wacko”. Now, with the song I stole from the siren, and this fruit I plucked from the tree, I feel as if I’ve been blessed with friendship along this Journey. “(Friends) is a term some people use loosely” I learn that I can trust myself. Follow my intuition. Believe in what I know is right and ignore the voices that are obviously attempting to sway me away from what I need. And follow the voices that sincerely wish to help. I develop my own voice, and use it when needed. Strength that comes from within guides me onward.
All these paths dashing and darting around me in different directions proves to me that there have been others before me navigating this confusing meadow. Trusting any one path seems risky, so I chose to pave my own ahead instead. Self-assurance leads me, I choose to stay faithful to what I’ve learned along the path already traveled, through the Spring, and into this new season. “I’m gonna be so faithful” “Faithful to thee”. A new self-love forms as it becomes apparent I’m navigating well through this meadow. “If love is a place, I’ma go again. At least now, now I know to go within” I’m careful not to become conceded in myself, as I recognize humility will do me far better than overzealousness. “The thin line between love and hatred” If anyone was watching, they’d think I knew the path. My confidence at this point has been earned, I reinforce myself with the knowledge that I’ve come so far already. “Some say that I’m a dreamer, ’cause I talk about it often” “So dreams we say out loud like speakerphones just to keep ’em on”. Admittedly, the confidence is not complete. There is a hint of doubt always there, but for some reason, that doubt is strengthening instead of weakening. “I guess knowin’ I’m weak is when I’m really bein’ strong. Somehow through the dust I could see the dawn”. There’s an element of fear I can’t shake either, as I work my way through this never ending meadow. Was the fruit truly poison? Am I taking too many risks to get where I need to go? “Life and death flow around us” All of a sudden, someone dashes by me. Perhaps they are running from something dangerous. It doesn’t frighten me though, it only sparks curiosity. “Life is fast, some choose to be quicker” In my head, I tell myself just how important it is to be dedicated, to be careful. Not to rush the process. Go with the flow and honor myself, grateful for the Journey.
“Be, be here, be there, be that, be this. Be grateful for life, be grateful to life”
“Be – be boundless energy”
“Be invited, be long-living, be forgiving, be not forgetful”
“Be high when you low; be on time, but know when to go”
“Be at full strength when walking through the valley”
“Be not foolish, as temporary king of the mountain top”
“Be a brilliant soul, sparkling in the galaxy, while walking on Earth”
The route I choose, the steps I take, they are relatively unguided. Each path through the meadow I cross feels more and more deeply ingrained. “They shoot as straight as arrows and run through the shadows” At first they felt untrustworthy, but now they seem more reliable. Somewhere along the way I change my mind. I choose to take one of the well travelled paths I’ve found. I’m not sure at first, but just as before I trust my gut. “My mind is hard to explain” “For real, I’m just tryna be the best me” I remind myself, “Nothin’ to fear but fear is all”. After all, I’m still alive and “Somehow still standin’ tall”. The path I’ve chosen is smoother, but that doesn’t mean I’m speeding up, in fact I’m taking my time in the sun, “We should take time, smell the flowers”. The flowers scent is beyond pleasing, it triggers a deep emotions not yet realized. These new emotions keep coming, not a single one felt throughout Spring. This must be the treats of a new Season. “These gifts, they’re part of me” “What made me is everything: the bad, the ugly, the good”. In a moment I’ll be quite glad I’ve chosen this particular path. Ahead of me is a posting. A sign hammered into the ground. Lines are drawn on paper tacked to this wooden post. It seems, intentional. Directed. Some lines seem familiar. It becomes apparent a few seconds later, it’s a map! A truly unexpected and unbelievable discovery. With this knowledge I have an awesome opportunity to make it out of the meadow. “The only neighbor that never knocked is opportunity”. The map makes the meadow more navigable, but I still need to power myself forward. Night is about to set in on this marvelous first day of Summer. I lay to rest, with a light heart and hope. For once, hope. I have trouble falling asleep, shedding a tear of joy for this new Season. “Some nights, I lay awake and feel all of my thoughts runnin’. I tally my regrets, upsets, and shortcomings”. The last thing that crosses my mind before falling into a deep, welcome slumber, is this, “Be whoever you need to be, just don’t forget who you are”. “Your future could supersede any history, true indeed. Just remember all the places we seen and what it mean”. When I awake in the morning to calm skies, the sunrise welcomes me with a gentle shine. I check the map once more and notice a destination identified with a star. I’m not exactly sure what it is, but it seems to be some point of interest nonetheless. Dwell not for long, I know which direction to head in to get there. No use in waiting around, let’s Keep Moving Forward. Not long after setting out, the destination comes into view, it’s a mound. A small hill at what seems to be the end of the meadow. Finally, an opportunity to look out and around. Up until now, the flat ground has shrouded the best path forward. Perhaps climbing this mountain will give me the perspective I’ll need to find my way forward this Season. Step after step, the ascent begins to tire my legs. Regardless, I’ve got the energy to crest the hill, fueled by the fruits of my labor, helped with the rhythm of my song, and guided by the map. I reach the top and immediately collapse in exhaustion. “Climbin’ to reach the pinnacle only to meet suspicion” I look back, terrified, but eager to see from where I’ve come. “Challenges, we rose to a lot of those” Up until now I have not seen so far back within a single glance. Oh how far I’ve truly come. Astounding. “Funny how I still remember everything I had to do”, “I said, I still remember all you used to put me through”. I see the forest I emerged from just days prior. I see others at the beginning of the meadow. Some just taking their first steps into the fields. I’m reminded, “You are not alone”. It’s strange, I couldn’t see this hill when I first entered the meadow, it must have been enshrouded by the mist and fog that rises from the dense foliage, “And if you can’t see the poetry, you are a poem”. A moment of retrospection strikes, on the forest, of the Spring that I emerged from days prior. How I pushed through, day after day, with no promise of a sunny life. All the times I had no energy to continue on. The days where I felt like giving up but didn’t. Moments where challenges and obstacles were regular occurrences. When loneliness was all I knew. When the only thing keeping me moving forward was the wish of a brighter future. “Yo, when I was runnin’ on empty, that emptiness would tempt me. I felt like everything, even my shadow worked against me. I sit there in the mirror, starin’ at myself intensely”. But now, now I can see that I’ve travelled far. Flushed with pride, I turn around to look ahead. What I see widens my eyes. Off in the distance is a brightness, an opportunity of a lifetime. The start of a rainbow. This rainbow is an avenue. Not just one, but many. Each of which loops back onto the main. Along each branch of the avenues there seems to be lined different styles of home. People are walking up and down the street. They’re joyous, cheerful and content. The main avenue seems to go on and on. The end of which unseen. I look once again to the base of the rainbow which marks the beginning of the avenue, just beyond the meadow. At the base something glimmers. Shines with vigor. My childish excitement grows. It’s a bike! I can’t help myself but run down the hillside toward it. I greet this bike with what can only be described as love. At first I worry that this bike is not mine, not meant for me to take and use. But a note lay on the handlebars. It contains one word, and a signature that resembles my own. It says, “Ride”. No doubt this was left for me, by me. A gift from future James. I suppose just as I had met my past along Spring, my future left this love to me to open the door of opportunity this Summer. To ride the avenues and enjoy all the varied beauties of this Season of Summer. To find others enjoying their own summers. To learn and grow into a diverse and splendid person. Some of those branches off the avenue look to be long and winding just as the road through Spring was, but I suppose long and winding roads are so long when you’ve got a bike to traverse them.
I begin riding. Enthralled with this newfound speed. Wind whistles along to my song. All my worries left behind, only pure joy remains now as the wheels turn. I pedal and pedal through the avenues and the bike never fails me. She allows me to explore all that there is out there for me to enjoy. Tears fall again, I can’t believe the amount of work I’ve put in to get to Summer. And now I have friends, I feel love again. “That girl thinks that she’s so bad. She’ll change my tears to joy from sad”. What used to be tears of sorrow has turned to tears of joy. I found the light at the end of the tunnel. I’ve navigated through the dark times. “I’ve been hurting for a long time”. I won’t claim complete success yet, but it’s a reprieve no doubt. The bike brings me strength, It unlocks so many boundless opportunities. “She doesn’t use her love to make him weak. She uses love to keep him strong”
My days are no longer slow and dreary, they are fast and incredible. Beauty is felt and delivered to each passerby. No longer am I closed off and only focused on my own goals, I help others. I build community along the avenues. I ride and ride, and ride and ride. Every day I ride. This Early Summer has changed me. I’m different. Molded by the Journey. Overjoyed by where I find myself now. I never want this feeling to end. I sing my song, eat my fruit, and thank myself for not giving up along the way. I show appreciation to every person I meet because who knows, perhaps they were the one who drew that map. Perhaps they will be the one I can soak up this Early Summer sunshine with. How lovely. Rejoice in Summer. It’s finally arrived.