The Way Out

I hear him croak,

a toad

caught in the trickle of a storm drain.

 

Gotta keep moving.

Heart beating.

Gotta keep breathing.

Footfalls on the damp sidewalk.

I was on my own path,

thinking, wondering, listening,

reminding myself to breathe

in the crisp early Spring morning.

Are we all caught in a drain, like the toad?

a way of thinking,

way of feeling,

way of being?

Is the run-off from the storms of our life

trickling…

pouring…

washing us into

our own stuck corner of a drain?

Are we hanging on…

Calling out?

Gotta keep moving.

Heart beating.

Gotta keep breathing.

Footfalls slowed as

my path intersected with his again.

Listening to the croak.

His call.

What can I do?

I wanted to save this little toad,

stuck in the drain.

I saw myself in him,

heard my heart in his croak.

Tried to lift the cover.

Tried to reach between the grates.

Jump for me, friend!

I’ll catch you.

He stayed and croaked.

I stepped back.

Free birds chirping in the trees above me.

Fluttering off to gather for a nest.

I knew.

He’s gotta find his own way out.

We’ve all gotta find our own way out

of our stuck ways of being.

Gotta keep moving.

Heart beating.

Gotta keep breathing.

Footfalls on the clarity of this Spring morning.

Finding my path out of the corner of a drain.

~Joni Sturgill