when i was a young man

words came to me in floods.

in fits and spurts,

blind rages

and moments of sublime ecstasy

that i tried in vain

to capture.


tears came in floods

too.


when i was

a little older

i couldn't remember where i'd left

my keys or my coat or my hat

or my home.


i was free

and i was happy.


then there were some very hard years.

sometimes i remember

but mostly

i choose to forget.


so much beauty

mixed up with so much pain.


out of all that

somewhere

somehow

children.

a daughter

i raised

and another

i do not know.


laughter.

struggle.

blind stupidity.

equally blind

hope.


so many wrong turns

remind me

of when my mother used to take me out for long drives

and let me play


"the getting lost game."


i'd get to direct her down as many random turns

as i wanted

and then she had to find the way home.


i had some great adventures

and some terrible misadventures

out there on the road.


before i knew it

i'm a grown man.

my daughter

is becoming a woman.


worn down by drama.

distracted and discouraged.

i had sunk

into a comfortable little rut.


and then one day

the road

led me,

my love,

to you.


and now it seems

that all those wrong turns

and all those terrible misadventures

were just a necessary part

of the journey

and this

is the destination.


a new road

begins.