Dusty Road

Alone with my thoughts,

On this dusty road,

With no sound of voices,

No one to voice my thoughts,

I alone am left to answer,

To understand my experience,

To contemplate my mistakes,

Reaching into my heart,

Within a place there only I have been,

For there is a door in each of us,

No one else passes through,

It is the beauty and the price,

Of being individual,

Yet  in being individual,

We are all joined as one,

Each seeing a piece of the puzzle,

That other eyes may see clear,

For some things remain unanswered,

Why some things must happen,

When some things are endured,

Which are beyond understanding,

Which brings the rhyme and reason home,

Why each of our hearts,

Are between the right and left hand,

That each hand may bear,

The strengths and burdens of another,

For it is within this wisdom,

We are truly human,

As I think of these things,

Surrounded by the ticking of clocks,

It is but a reminder,

I do not sit alone,

We are never alone,

Each ticking of a clock,

Is as the beating of a heart,

The surrounding of clock beats,

Is as the surrounding of hearts,

Each longing to hear the other,

Each beating for a purpose,

Some strong and some in disrepair,

And each beating as one,

Such simple things remind me,

When I am in pain,

Such truths comfort me,

Once and again,

That when we walk on our dusty road,

We are never alone.