From the rearview mirror

I take one last look at my home

The Cerulean waters, the beach

and, most importantly, a great white rock. 

It stood father-like, with a dented edge 

where I used to sit and gaze. 

I take one last look at the playground 

The swings, Although nearly broken from rust

Screeched in the wind. 

And the lone soccer ball at the penalty line

Who, is going to take that shot, 

When I am gone?

The engine rumbled

And before I knew it,

I left my childhood behind forever. 

The road to the airport meanders on, 

From paths, streets to highways, 

As the journey continued, Apprehension set in,

Fearful of losing everything

I once proudly owned. 

Wary of a restart

In a foreign country. 

It was nearly noon,

The tires screeched as we stopped at a rest stop. 

I stepped out and noticed

a scent of unfamiliarity.

I found myself stranded 

In a world of obscure beauty. 

Above, a flock of geese flew 

To the distant south

A symbol of their home. 

They perched a distance away from me,

Eyes on the horizon 

With seeming determination. 

I stare at the moving cars on the driveway. 

How many of them go past every day?

How many of them never return? 

Puzzled, I ask a worker,

“How many cars come here daily?” 

“Around 30,000”, he replied. 

And I am part of them. 

It seems, strangely, the more I think about the journey ahead,

Indeed, the more the fear dissipates. 

The wheels turn once more, 

However, the passenger has a different thought in his mind. 

Life is exactly this meandering road. 

Full of road stops, of unseen beauty.

How do we see new things,

If we stay stranded, 

unable to move forward?

Many travel along the same road,

And many await to start the journey. 

As the airport comes into sight, 

The fear is no longer present

in my eyes.

It is the start of a new journey.

I have but arrived at a rest stop for life.