A Mountain Tragedy
It's an early morning, the sun has yet to crest over the mountain tops as we drive down from their man made veins. It has just rained, the water is settled upon the dark asphalt with gentle reflections. Ahead of our view is endless trees.
They hug the sides of the streets with great command. They stand silent, expressing a magnitude of brilliance, brilliance nature has built over millions of years. It has been three days since we were last home. The weekend spent in the flesh of the mountains has been amazing.
There is nothing quite like the views that the teeth of the world bare. You feel so small when you reach the top, overlooking the vast expanse of nature. Its bristled hair of green, its pools of tears and clouds of mist resonate deep in the soul.
You know you belong among it, yet there is an unfamiliarity of it. Like a distant cousin you have never met till today. You know your blood is of the same line, yet you know nothing of each other. Only to see each other from time to time. Never to grow a complete connection but, you create one that allows some communication.
Enough feel as if you are no longer distant blood lost to the valleys and rivers of family. But you never feel completely connected. Only way to do so, would be to venture together every day, to lose track of time and be lost in the laughter and adventure of each moment.
To really leave everything behind and build a truthful bond. But there is little time for that, for reality has its hold. Realities presence is always there, lingering in the back of the mind. Waiting for you to say hi and when you do, it is all you can think about.
You know you want to stay away from it, to vanish into the real fantasy of nature or maybe something else you are fond of. But you can't, if you did that, everything would crumble. Eventually you have to come home, you have to face the reality of the world.
That is why, I take these drives up to the mountains that dart into the sky. It is why I create moments that create moments. Setting up goals that build me to enjoy the world around me. That let me see what I truly love and what I truly need.
But on this day, down the mountain pass home. I, we, my friends, became a tragic story for the headlines. See, we lost ourselves a little too much. We let our inhibitions be taken by the lust of escape. So now, I sit on the other side of reality.
A place most believe does exist. A place where silence is constant and I cannot escape. A place where my bitter choices have kept me. See, I never enjoyed what I had at my feet. I ran from it all, I turned my head from reality one too many times.
So in the decent down the awning of the mountains, through the cascading teeth of earth. We became victims of our own stupor. I was drunk from the night before, driving a two ton RV down a slick path to hell. We were playing music, enjoying our independence from our jobs, our chains of reality.
And in the high of our moment, I did not see we were heading toward a turn. A turn set for ten miles per hour and we were heading at thirty. By the time I noticed, all my friends were screaming as we flew from the edge. We spurt out from the road like blood from a severed artery.
We fell for what felt like hours. My stomach curled into my throat and all I remember, is the hellish screams of my friends. And then the thunderous impact of the RV hitting the side of the mountain. It was about three tumbles before I blacked out.
Just before I blacked out, I saw one of my friends smash into the windshield, their eyes were motionless. It was as if they were empty on the inside, a ghost.
I will never forget that and while I lay silent upon this hospital bed in a coma I may never wake from; as I linger between life and death. If I ever get a second chance, I will be truly gracious of those around me and what sits before my eyes.
Have you ever made in decisions that risked your life or others in the stupidity of wanting to just be free?
Drip your soul upon the pages of, A Man's Traveled Heart
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