Smooth stretch

Rough road ahead

rough road behind

many lives have I led

searching to find

a smooth stretch ahead

All I really want is

a smooth stretch to glide upon,

an abalone dawn

in a serpentine river,

blue sky above and a heart full of love

Lane change ahead

Lane change behind —

Potholes, dips. and shredded tires

make our passage dire.

All of this crazy swerving

could be utterly unnerving.

Semis with their tons of steel

and toxic loads of dread

push us from behind,

challenge us to find a way

through which to safely thread.

But steady hands are on the wheel

we breathe as two, as one.

Homing instinct guides the feel

until the journey’s done

All we really want is

a smooth stretch to glide upon,

an abalone dawning on

a serpentine river,

blue sky above and hearts full of love

2 comments on “Smooth stretch
  1. Robbie (AKA Robyn) says:

    I am so happy about your prognosis! AndI love this entry on your blog. I also have glio blastoma, and am a two-year survivor, so I too have outlived my prognosis. I have embraced the present recommended therapy of the Optune machine.
    Your blog is a pleasure to read your book,Bowing Into Sensei Glioblastoma, has become like Linuses’ blanket; I carry it from room to room with me. I carried it to my doctor’s office. When I showed it to him he said, “Can I take a picture of this?” “I REQUIRE you to!” We both laughed. He lost a friend to GB recently. But at lease the next patient he encounters with GB will have the company and comfort of your voice that much sooner.
    In terms of the space of Not Knowing, I’ve found, as a story teller, that the space I used to dread, the (Yikes!) Silence of the Long Pause, has become one of the most creative spaces to dwell in, and I have learned to use it to my own , as well as my audience’s, benefit. It’s been said that without spaces between the notes that music would be just a jumbled mess of noise, but I’m not speaking just about the proper pacing of speech, but of the pause that occurs when a teller can get lost in a story, and in fact loses the plot. It’s actually a very creatively rich space to dwell in, if you trust it. You do have to have a good amount of trust, in yourself, in your audience, to a point, but mostly in the story itself. The story will carry you if you let it. It will pick you up and carry you along like a sandy river that surges under you just when you think it has left you high and dry. If you dig your paddle in too deep too soon you will be stuck digging, but if you trust the story it will lift you again and carry you home to the sweet conclusion, and your audience will feel that trust and sense that you have put the story in charge and love the experience all the more for it. I don’t say they love YOU all the more for it, although they do, but that is not the point. Storytellers worth their salt do not tell for the glory. They tell to make people fall in love with the stories, to spread their addiction to stories, because addicts love company.
    And I have belabored you enough. Thank you for reading all that. And thank you for this blog! And all of your art! And your wonderful book!
    I’m wishing you a smooth stretch very soon. Be well, effortlessly, with an abalone dawn. Big hugs to you and beautiful Esperanza.
    Robbie

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