Edges

Driving on this long stretch of open space
I realize
I haven't seen clouds in years

low hanging dark clouds, pushing the boundaries of cloud hood
the white thick cotton clouds splashed with the salmon color of a coming sunset
the simple white spackled clouds spread out lazily in the opening blue of atmosphere

The tiny rain drops litter my windshield
the hum of the road finds its way to my ears and my heart

I could drive this forever
forgetting all the things that should be forgotten
remembering things that should be remembered

maybe forget could be like forgiving
but better
and more whole

it would be like the small pebbles along the roadside
miles back
forgotten
like nothings, like never-weres

I could be a zen Buddhist
with pebbles and clouds of thoughts being only what they are
without effort
and I could in some sense
cease to be
the me that I am


or I could be a light
shining in dark skies
in dark places
in my own heart where the darkness is
the low hanging rain clouds
but what sustains my light?

I could be the pebble wishing to be forgotten
in this long stretch of open space
to be what ever thing I am
without effort

somewhere on the roadside
in the rain
underneath these clouds that I haven't seen in so many years