What might be

From where I stand I see, a road,
so long
and so far straight ahead,
as far as my eyes can see
narrowing with every step, it appears
until it merges with the sky
and the nothingness beyond.

From where I stand I hear, sweet notes
of another tomorrow,
of what might be,
in the world beyond the long and straight road.

Off the highway,
behind the trees, tucked away,
snugly,
along the green slopes
flows a small stream
of music.

I should be getting back,
on to the long and straight road again,
paved out just for you and me.
No, sire, no distractions
now as far as the eyes can see.

But I'm thirsty,
and as I bend down to sip,
my mind is calculating,
how far I could have gone,
on the long and straight road by now.

It's magical,
no nectar
could be sweeter,
and no ocean deeper,
than this stream of music,
heavenly,
unearthly, divine.

I could have been one of them,
passers-by on the long and straight road,
driving into the sunset,
oblivious to the unmatched joys
of these still waters.

But I'm still thirsty
and I no longer think
of the highway
that I have left behind,
and I drown,
and I drown
quietly
into the sacred depths,
getting high the right way.