Motorcycle Diary #3

For a moment, I forget all that has happened, who has come and gone.  Just a moment.  My eyes closed, the wind caresses my hair and whispers in my ear.   February, hot as summer.  I don't have to think, just feel the shift in weight as the machine slows down, let my body respond.   Peace in surrendering to the moment.  No judgment, no longing.   

I long for this freedom on my own.  Perhaps it is for this I have invested in my quarter-life crisis vehicle.  I dream of gliding, using the power and grace of my body, in the air.  The closest to flying, thanking each movement, each bone and muscle, relying only on myself and no one else to feel the power of the air, leaning into life's obstacles, fearless and balanced.