Wild Wash Road​

​

The exit for Wild Wash Road

was right in front of me.

I took it.

It didn’t look like much—

cactus and Joshua Tree.

 

I turned off my engine

to sit and ponder this road.

I could not imagine

it was ever wild,

as I waited for

something to wash

over me.

Nothing did.  

 

Maybe it had to rain

to be wild.

It would have to rain

a lot to be wild

in that desert.

 

It took me a long while—

too long

to realize that it

wasn’t what I thought

about the road,

or what I expected

it to be, but that I needed

to experience it.

 

I started driving

and felt the road

beneath me,

felt it become me,

or I it.

 

Once I decided,

not with my mind—

but with my heart—

that the road would be wild

and wash over me,

through me,

it was.

And it did.