tickets from the sky

Trust

by Thomas R. Smith

It's like so many other things in life
to which you must say no or yes.
So you take your car to the new mechanic.
Sometimes the best thing to do is trust.

The package left with the disreputable-looking
clerk, the check gulped by the night deposit,
the envelope passed by dozens of strangers—
all show up at their intended destinations.

The theft that could have happened doesn't.
Wind finally gets where it was going
through the snowy trees, and the river, even
when frozen, arrives at the right place.

And sometimes you sense how faithfully your life
is delivered, even though you can't read the address.

In my callow period (which may still be going on!), I went on a beach retreat with a group from college.  The weather was mercurial and I found myself inside one of the science labs at the retreat center.  I had no idea that the conversation that began that day with another girl hiding from people the rain, would still be going on.  Our topic that day was how handy it would be if the gods would allow plane tickets to fall from the ceiling to let us know exactly where we were to head next.

While I've stepped out into thin air before, this is a first as I do not have a region/city in mind for my next lily pad.  Resumes are going global, but nothing has popped up yet.  But, as Bogart is not part of my life anymore~I may very well simply do a sort of gap year and see what unfolds for the second half of my life!

(And please feel free to pass along any interesting job ideas/regions to me!)