On My Way Home from Loveland

Lost. Well, not really lost. I knew
I was somewhere between Denver
and Loveland, driving south
on a four-lane highway. But where
was the exit and had I passed it already
and what was the name of that road?

The dark made the world a new place,
and the moon, bloodsome and low,
was no help. I have been here before,
I thought, looking for signs without knowing
exactly what they should say. Dazed by the
earthbound galaxy of lights, I was sure
that they were beautiful even if I was not
so sure where beautiful might be. But
there I was in the center of beautiful, lost,
but not really, blessed with my amazement.

This is the way that I want to love—without
knowing exactly where we are going, just
trying to bless this tangle of paths, listening
for the voice that says turn left in .9 miles,
now take a right. And tuning out the voice
to drive deeper into night.

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