M53

A poem inspired by a hair-raising driving experience last night!

M53

And still the rain fell.

Relentlessly.

Cars rolled into the storm.

Drivers pushed through lakes of danger.

Each bumper

displaced wall after wall of water.

Each heart beat

to the furious tick of windscreen wipers.

Shocks of lightning.

Over to the East, husbands, wives, partners,

children, were the heart of lives,

driving into the storm.

And still the rain fell. Relentlessly.

Accidents are never accidental.

Every traveller

lived unconsciously for something,

drove slowly for a far off,

near to, not far away, experience of love.

Unconditional.

And so, as the sky burned.

As each foot on the accelerator

drove into the fire,

as puddles quavered like crying eyes

and the tarmac screamed danger,

the rain just fell.

The love objects remained unaware

of how they saved lives.

Of how that is unconditional.

And still the rain fell.

Relentlessly.

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