I like the sound of a rainy street

I turn the key. Press in the clutch and give it some power. And the weight from the afternoon spins out of sight. In the rear view. Exhaust. I like the raw feeling, the reliability of machines. The comfort. The sound. The smoke as it comes up from behind as I sit at a stop light. And the way the street light reflects off the wet blacktop.

In the way the night collapses onto the hood of my ride, and in the way God climbs inside. Out from the fear and the flight. Come out. Come. See. Smell. Breathe overgrown life. Be. Because you can.



"Live in the sunshine. Swim the sea. Drink the wild air." Emerson