Road Trip

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A bird hits a window in a tower

in Dallas, startling a man at his

desk. A bit of feather and blood

is stuck there. He calls maintenance

but no one comes. It’s all he can see.

He doesn’t want to die while filling

out another form. In the same mo-

ment, an old rancher in Montana

drops his hammer while nailing a

fence his father built. As he dies,

the extra nails fall from his mouth.

In the same moment, a waitress in

New Hampshire, late for work, thinks

she might rush that left turn off route

13, but she waits. While waiting, a fox

appears in the snow. She’s never seen

a fox. As she makes the turn, the fox

disappears and the canopy of maples,

growing toward each other for years,

welcomes her to a timeless place

where windows and fences and

rushing can’t go.

A Question to Walk With: Describe a recent instance in which you wandered beyond all rushing. Where did this wandering lead you to and what did it feel like?

This excerpt is from my book, The Way Under The Way: The Place of True Meeting, 2016 Nautilus Award Winner.

For more poetry for the soul, click here.

For more by Mark Nepo, click here.