I’m driven tonight by a restlessness which has no name.
I’m looking for something, but I can’t remember what I’m looking for. I’m trying to fill a hole, but I can’t look into the hole to see what’s missing. There’s something priceless which is almost within my grasp, but it disappears when I turn to take it as my own.
As I left dinner, I couldn’t bring myself to go home. Whatever I needed — whatever I was looking for on this restless night — was not there. I was hungry, but it wasn’t for food. I was thirsty, but it wasn’t for water or any drink.
My soul was crying out in a silent scream which I couldn’t put into words but which overwhelmed me like a storm on the inside trying to break out of my raging heart.
I drove north on a small two-lane road out into the country. There were a few houses but no other signs of development. Everything was dark except for my headlights and the bright full moon above me.
And like an ancient sailor who was driven by the wails of sirens he couldn’t resist, I wanted to reach out for the moon. Surely what I seek must be there.