We Let Them Go
Brandon Cook
I.
We only stopped at the gas station, and did not drive north
We wanted more, of course,
But also knew what we'd find: more roads, more white lines, more farms
We were not alarmed by our longing
Nor annoyed at the constraints of time
All that we’ve learned, and our grown-up task:
To not pass up the naming of desire
But to let desire pass—
To let it fire itself across our brains
And feel it burning to the brunt of insanity, before breathing and, pushing on,
Letting go of what we have not the time to climb or ride or drive or find
II.
Who knows what we’d have found, should we have driven on—
A tree that stirred old memories
A bend inviting mystery
A bird that sang the grief of things?
But with miles to go, we left such possibilities behind
Still, I hope time will prove kind
Like an ocean, guiding an unbroken bottle to the shore
Like an antique store which prevents a museum from becoming a mausoleum
Like the autumn, gently laying the leaves to rest, the sky to grieve
III.
But I did pause in the sunlight, in the parking lot of the White Horse Gas
Marveling at the white clouds rising like mountains into the sky
Letting my body feel the beautiful, oppressive heat, stinging our skin, baking at our feet
To tell us, once again, that
We live
We breathe
We make memories
And
All the roads we cannot take, we must let go
Still, somehow, we take them with us down the highway, even as we drive away
As if all things will meet before the end of things
Beyond the ever-turning gates of dawn
And the changing of green leaves
In autumn breezes