Long Ago

Having lost yesterday and running down roads
long and cold and knowing that all children
must grow up some day,
I at last come to a crossroads
revving my red Jeep to the mountains
or to the sea, to myself or to a vision.
Will I walk, run, dance, sleep?
Will I listen to clear crystal stars
or screeling tires on asphalt?
And in the mountains where the days
are strong and by the sea
where the nights stroll on the sand
and me a long-haired wonder lost and found –
Will I know who I am?
The answers are coming slowly but coming
and I have waited these twenty odd years
for answers . . .
And one day a woman will be born of the child
And me I will be a world.


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