Erratic thoughts come from divine
Yet I do not think they’re mine.
Down the road I drive, and down,
Yet I drown.
Farther, farther yet – and still,
I cannot process thoughts that spill.
Out and around me, dripping drops
The descent is longer – then it stops.
Pulling, pushing, fates collide
Unsure of when to time the tide.
Relief, surmounting, through the fog
Rolling, rolling, clear the smog.
I want to see what we outgrew.
I think I see the truest You.