A biker’s week

To trace this trail as does a biker’s heart,

the end must be seen just as the start.

In some lost thought

and in a forgotten feeling ,

a few good memories,

and a faint moon

in the corner of the eye,

when the sky is painted

in blue and black.

trust that you’ll get there,

no matter what.

A reason, then

To perhaps, smile

At a passing stranger,

Share a story with another

Who listens,

A drifter, perhaps.

Then gather a few

stories of your own

divulge in the road,

in the cracks

and the street lights,

disappearing at a distance,

both of them.

And when the sun appears

After too long a night,

We shall never sleep again

The day shall be

Longer than ever.

The day that was never

Then maybe a hint of shade

When the heat

Gets too much to bear.

A place to keep,

Maybe someone

To lend your warm skin.

And when the evening falls again,

A place to rest your body,

A mate to rest your head,

And a heart to rest your soul,

And lay awake

Beneath the new born stars

Then beneath the glinting moon

Ride just the same

Let your thoughts be tidal

And rise

And fall

In someone’s gravity

In the calm, gather

Your strength and courage.

But in your heart, keep

A few good memories

The end and the start

Just the same.

And then keep

The same old belief -

That you’ll get there

No matter what

There’s nothing else you need

And no one else you desire.