3/17/92
L.A.

Crossing

Alive, out from the city’s furrowed glare
Under nothing but everything above
Moving fast across a landscape with no access
At least until the sun would let me pass
Having to settle for the vision of my vehicle
I am content,I am content

The freedom felt flying low over the high desert
God’s gaze unobstructed by buildings and video,
Helicopter search lights and modern inversions
Turning off the music,lowering the window
Off the four lane,onto the two,I am one
The wind deafens without a word,without a note

Here,looking ahead you can see miles away
Behind,the dozens passed
To the right,a beacon that goes without label
Until train crossing signs give the secret away
The words of a singer come playing in my mind
A man who I have listened to,listened and listened to

His presumption rings true in this case tonight
Though I prefer the sound of a train up close
The rhythm of wheels,the warning of lights
The smell of the air pushed up from the tracks
The darkness that it seems to peel back,away
I am not alone,I am never alone

Returning the same way the following night
My mind is two hundred seventy four miles ahead
Again I see the mysterious beacon
I laugh,not again,no way,no how
Slowing,the window drops,my lights go out
The gift offered twice…accepted twice.