Riding a bike at night

Which way will you go?

There are no streetlights here,

only black, thicketed trees.

Rutted pavement.

And everywhere the warm

swallowing smell of the sea.

Test the wind -

it will change.

On an island, all roads

lead in circles.

It's no good to look ahead;

the street has disappeared from view.

Ride, instead, gazing up

toward the pale pewter path

of the trees' parting.

Turn when the sky turns.

Remember to breathe.

The cool scarves of air

whipping past

are your only proof of speed.

Somewhere in the singing tires,

the muffled groan of the sea,

the rabbited patches of starlit grass:

Somewhere is your destination.

You will never find it

with flashlight & map.

You must simply plunge,

whirring,

into the dark.

(c) Copyright 1999. The Christian Science Publishing Society