Immobility

My car has been in the shop for three weeks. I’m back on the road again, but not unaffected.

In this absence from driving I have discovered a few things:

- driving fuels my creativity and my sense of self-worth.

- though, immobility can also be freeing.

- there is a pond out behind my office complex.

 
The pond has become a place of midday solace for me, with the added delight of unafraid ducks. These guys sat at my feet and slept while I sat on a bucket and wrote. The past few weeks have scrambled my brain - this temporary dose of surreality (and constant pondering of “normal” and if it is a thing one can actually ever “get back to”) has been very good for me in that regard - but I am left feeling disoriented and a little shell shocked. I have three or four poems that are all being written slowly and at once, in scattered pieces by accident, revealing themselves to me one important sentence at a time.

 

I need to do all of it justice, all of this life and all of the comprising faces... but when I am lifted up by the scruff of my neck, at the mercy of the universe, it is difficult to make the words come together. 

That being said. I am ecstatic to be reunited with my KIA.