Driving, driving, all the way to Easton, PA

When your driving along on 287 S, and all of a sudden you see a sign that says "EASTON, PA one mile," you might discover something about yourself- you may find yourself to be some-one like me...someone who notices she's missed her exit 40 minutes too late. And ends up driving farther and farther away from home, mesmerized by the magnetic force of beauty---by lightning storms dancing in the sky ahead and around of you. No rain. just an ocean of deep clouds ahead washing over me in slow waves of dark grey smoothness, and suddenly piercing me with the sharpness of sudden forks of blue, purple and reddish light, (shoot! is that a cop? oh.) What am i driving towards? It is not just the composite of elements. What is it about this particular conglomeration of light and sky and atoms and particles that wounds my heart with a piercing arrow of desire? why should it hurt me like a knife, which hurts in a tangible way, why this unfelt feeling? its not the elements i seek at all. i am driving towards love.