Of Departures, Distance, And Destination
I've always known my own limitations, just as I've
known I'm the only one who is capable of creating
those limits, just as I'm usually my own worst enemy.
I've also always found fascination in life's little ironies.
Along the way I've learned there is a fine line between
temptation and things just meant to be.
I'm accepting now that I'm just never going to get used
to this distance nor will I ever get good at good-byes.
Departure goes against my heart's nature;
Driving to the airport, praying an act of God would
somehow delay my flight, knowing it was going
to take a force of nature to give me the strength
needed to leave both you and the tides behind.
Saying good-bye was like amputation ...
as I surrendered to all degrees of separation,
it was in that moment, I knew ... without hesitation ...
I would have traded those tides for more time with you.
Watching you walk away, my body bruised by the
restraint I inflicted on it resisting running after you.
My heavy heart held me there ...
I missed you before you were ever out of my view.
How many moonlit midnight drives
must I make before one of these roads
takes me back to your tides of contentment?
How many early morning rides towards
the crimson sunrise will return me to the
rhythm of the wave's resonating reprise?
How many miles must I accumulate
before I can acclimate my spirit in
your blue breezes once again?
What purpose do these road trips serve
if they don't lead me in your direction?
Driving in circles without destination ...
every single white line counts off
another time that you are on my mind.
Every mile marks another moment that
this distance confines, keeping me from
where I left the best of me behind.
How many river roads can I travel ...
how many rocky trails can I hike that would ever take me to
the heights I knew standing shoulder to shoulder on a misty
mountain side, breathless from the view of blue sky and you.
How many creeks can I walk in, how many lakes can I wade?
How many river banks can I wander searching for another
invitation in the sand, needing constantly to be near
water in a futile attempt to recreate the way I felt
walking sunswept shorelines holding your hand.
So now I ride with one eye on the road and one on the moon.
If I drive directly into it will I end up on the other side?
Will it pull my tides to a dusk dusted shore saturated
in September's sultry solstice?
Did you know there is a star in the sky for every time
I have missed you? Yet I only need one to guide me back
to where I fell for you and for the ocean's hues of blue.
'Map Questing' the miles, trying to find the scenic
route to return to where I left my heart in the sand.
Watching the weather channel to see if the
sun is shining on your shoulders and shorelines.
My camera now exhausted trying to capture
just one midwest sunrise that could ever compete
with the beauty of the Chesapeake Bay reborn
in the reverie of an east coast morn.
I came back a different woman than I was before.
And isn't that the way it should be once witnessing
the waves, once walking on a sunrise seduced shore?
No longer content to be kept from the blue, each day is
another chance to be captivated by the colors, to covet the clouds.
Still I ride to where the roads rise, searching for a detour that will
deliver me to your aqua allure. Taken by a relentless urgency to find
my way back to the sea, I fill my days with respites on river banks ...
creek beds and sand bars, sunning on lake shores just to be close to the
influence of water, needing to immerse my spirit the constancy of waves.
Sleep only serves to keep me from the sunrise and the moon
as it makes its midnight reprise. From dusk to dawn I am driven
by my desire to see every sunset ... to wish upon every star ...
somehow finding solace in the knowing we share this same sky.
I have found ways to tide me over till I can return to the blue ...
but the one view I cant substitute is the blued brilliance of you.
Distance back to the blue: 945 miles
124,608 white lines in 945 miles.
(132 broken white line segments in a mile)
Estimated 20 billion stars in the sky
"Baby, what is wrong with you and I? Every hello seems to echo goodbye.
The time we had it was barely a time to begin, and we've begun again.
And all I can feel now is distance between you and me. Endless miles without a smile on a face I can't see. When I can say, "I love you", but I can't make you believe me, because touching is believing.
And now I'm tired of waking alone in the night, nothing is wrong still nothing is right.
When I've got you I'm gonna hold on, tight."
Hold On Tight
[This message has been edited by Janet Marie (06-24-2003 12:49 PM).]