Riding A Rapture


Josephine DeLeo
Summer 2005

Release me, if only for a time, from life’s burdens.

With the wind at my face, the sun kissing my skin, every sense is awakened.

All goodness draws closer, while negatives fall away when Mother Nature’s breath is upon me.

My eyes and mind begin to feast at all her beauty she lay before my journey.

Humming through the South, legends of yesteryear pass by; plantations boasting columns of white standing sentinels defending a veranda brandished with whicker rockers. Beneath a weeping willow, horse and buggy stand alone awaiting the visitor to walk the long footpath to another fine estate.

Swiftly moving through the hills of our Northern States, green, tall, trees, envelop riders with cool arms. The rise and fall of a natural made path, curving, turning, deep into that quiet place where the only sounds are of bird songs.

We travel our country where Presidents and the common folk walked, laughed, loved and lived. Places where our nation was fashioned.

I ride in awe as my path crosses the path of a doe and my heart jumps!

Onward, over a tiny wooden bridge that spans a clear, running brook, it babbles to a trestle that once supported travelers aboard a steam locomotive. On the brink of a cliff I pause excited to be part, and parcel, to a new adventure as if I were a child the first time at the fair, abundant with joy and delight.

Cutting a pliable path through the wind, all senses soar. Without bars, covers, or steel to restrain or hinder, it is a breathless experience my ride upon a motorcycle. On wings of an Angel, I am riding a rapture!

Editor's Note: (Josephine is Pat G. sister.)


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