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on mountain biking – and you

May 17, 2014

I have no wings but still I fly
soaring on spokes of steel and rubber
where tire kisses earth

Narrow path twisting, winding like
promises sweetly whispered in the night
never intended to be kept

feet locked to pedals like the heart
clipped in with no release, no escape
except abrupt, violent separation

based on route and line I cannot choose
gravity pulls, compels, speeds my choice
acting in the moment, my wheel becomes my guide

the path will turn and I blinded follow
as your light pulls me down into where I do not know
but gladly deeper go

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From → poetry

13 Comments
  1. the hills where i live are perfect for biking!!

    great write.

    stacy lynn mar
    http://warningthestars.blogspot.com/

  2. nice… there def. are parallels… i’m too much a coward for real mountainbiking though…smiles

    • I understand, I am getting to that point in life where I say – boy, hope I don’t crash.

      Kinda like the late thirties for a rugby player – that time one realizes it’s not everybody else who gets wracked up, but everybody….

  3. I’ve got to get bike! 😉

  4. I like the idea of flying without wings and tires kissing the earth. there is a definitely feel of letting go and getting lost (or maybe found) in the process.

  5. Ah, Bill – I was right there with you – I meant the biking part 🙂

  6. I like the relationship between the bike and the earth. I always wondered how such dare devil riders survived, but if it is a mutual ride starting with tires kissing the earth, it all makes sense. Grin. Oh, and remember that if you make mother earth no promises, she makes none either!
    I’m glad you found us before we closed the prompt.

  7. I like the bicycle used as a metaphor for a mesmeric irresistible love…makes me go weak at the knees (swoon:)

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