This is no time
for listening to dharma,
even though the talk
is of waking up.
All quiet tones
regardless of content
will be heard as
lulling silks.
Open the window.
Of course.
And if that doesn’t work,
scratch. One hand
steers, the other
hand grazes your
arms, your neck, your lower back.
And whatever you do,
don’t get caught up
in watching the rising moon
in the rear view mirror.
Eyes on the road. Eyes
on the road. Pray.
Make small goals
when the destination
is still two hours away.
And when you have
quite scared yourself, stop.
Turn off the car and get out.
Breathe in the night,
the distant stars, the wind
as it unsettles the roadside
trash. Walk and raise
your arms in the universal
sign of surrender.
Now go back to
your seat, insert the key,
and hold the wheel
as if your life
depended on it,
with two steadying,
too human hands.