Lights Poem by Ben Carnahan

All these lights,
Ghostly on the page, illuminating
Red in front of us, leading
Bright glare in our eyes, speeding
Off in the distance, sparkling
Up above our path, shining.

Ghostly on the page
My link to the world
A dull glow to write by
Cold.

Red in front of us
Obstacles in our way
Sad drones shadowing us
Unsympathetic

Glare in our eyes
A nuisance to our sight
Blinding orbs passing by
Empty

Off in the distance
A backdropp to a blur
A stage for the journey
Meaningless

Up above our path
Guides for ancient trav’lers
Distant heavenly holes
Reassuring

Cold, unsympathetic, empty, meaningless...
Reassuring?

Do they do anything?
Do they help anything?
Do they hold anything?
Do they mean anything?

The cold,
Is less than the sum of its numbers.
The unsympathetic,
Are an obstacle course to be run.
The empty,
Are a river running in reverse.
The meaningless,
Is nothing more than a perfect map.

When we’re here so long
Standing still faster than we can fall
Sitting here all alone
Nothing really exists outside.

They’re not cell phones
They’re not tail lights
They’re not head lamps
They’re just lights.

But don’t they comfort?
Those holes the guitarist praised?
Those points the sailors clung to?
Warm, sympathetic, filling, meaningful,
Reassuring.

When we’re here so long
Standing still faster than we can fall
Sitting here all alone
The stars are the only constant.

When everything else is a blur
When the world is fake around us
When we are alone in the river of cars
The stars alone remain unchanged.

Not only, not alone
The whole way, the entire journey
Through change, loneliness, opposition
God was back there, is here, will be there ahead.

November 28,2009 - southbound on interstate 5, California, United States