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The reel groans,
threatening to snap.
Danger is present again,
disaster reappears ahead.
Re-Align
Re-Align
Minutes of struggle ensue,
fighting to restart.
Don’t want to die.
Must Re-Align
Must Re-Align
Almost too late the ancient gears restart
seconds short from disaster.
Months after thirteen the next stop rests,
only months after the accident.
The girl stood in front of a road,
a bag slung over one shoulder.
Final decisions have been made,
no going back now.
The first step of many is taken
first step on an unknown road.
Dedicating herself to yet another beginning, she takes the second step.
dedicating herself to a life that is unpredictable.
Re-Align
Re-Align
Two years skip by,
time has changed.
Youthful blue eyes have gone old,
bright eyes have gone dark.
Life on the road has been rough, fraying the edges.
Old cradle songs frequent,
reminders of a life once had.
Fires never made,
nights mostly dark.
Two years after beginning the life of a drifter,
she was found by others.
Tow others found her,
sought her through her attempts at losing them.
They talked,
the trio of them.
Words about prophecy whispered,
words spoken of destiny.
Rusting gears fast forward,
passing that whole journey.
The journey lies too recent,
sealed behind more solid doors.
The gears slow,
the job nearly done.
Memories dump back into the void,
locked behind fresher doors now.
Power returns to the mind,
senses reawakening.
Eyes reopen, an age older,
The tears are gone,
faint scars in their places.
The girl of eighteen rises,
taking in the presence.
Moon rise to the sky
Stars join dark night.
Everything has Re-Aligned.
--Betty Fisher
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