I am of the road
long and twisted
never finding home.
This is a lonesome world.
We pass each other
on our separate journeys
blind and unhearing.
Who can truly know
the heart of another?
We are pretenders.
We think the road is straight.
We think we are knowing the truth
that what we see is real
that who we are is meant to be.
But you will never be me
and I will never be you.
We will always be separate
and we will always travel alone.
I could call this a sadness.
I could call this the vagaries of life.
But sometimes it is sounder
not to ponder the way of it.
I know some of us are home
the minute we are born,
but some of us never find the place
where we can breathe.
I would call this a sorrow.
I would call this simply the peregrine road.
StoryGirl 
Oh Rohana….. you have really painted it with words
and it is both beautiful and heartbreaking. I have reflected on these ideas from time to time and
for me, God has been my ultimate reality.. with me from beginning to end .. and thereafter. Not religious, that’s something different.
Anyway, one day when I feel flush enough (gas and hotels =. +++$) and brave enough, I will hop in my car and come see you. Ok?!
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Thank you for your thoughts on my poem. I love that you read my stuff.
For sure, one day we should get together. Maybe meet halfway. Colorado? I would love to see mountains again. But I gotta win the lottery first. Oh yeah . . .
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