Prompt: Longing

Buller Gorge

First week of five and hit the wall
Frozen rain and rampant waterfalls
Left hand drive and right hand rider
One lane tossed back and forth
By thin bridges across a gorge
Roadways chipped out
From the cliff face
Stop for tea and hold the hot water
Pot to your ears, nose and hands
Get back on for the worst of it
The locals don’t go out in this
Only those with no choice
Home is thousands of miles back
Or four weeks forward but not here
You must go on to the sea
First the gorge

Where you lose heart with
The cold, with the road
With the waterfalls right on the roadway
Right in your path
Sometimes in your lap
You swerve and you tense
You chill and you sweat
You freeze and you turn
Then the road straightens out
The river quiets down
The mists thicken
Then they lift
The Tasman Sea
In it’s green glory
Breaking against the lava rocks
Pounding into the beach
Flying into the fog
It parts for a look at the
Pale sun

Parking and placing
Helmet on handlebars
Blinking at water and cliffs
Ferns that are tree size
Laced with more waterfalls
Sky the color of key lime pie
Rocks rough enough to cut leather
Sit and lean back to let them try
Tap on your shoulder blades
Work out the tension from
The ride through The Buller Gorge

The oceans roar replaces the bikes
The taste on your lips is the salt of the waves
Fingers in your back
From a rock that defies definition
But you feel it through the riding gear
And it reminds you you made it
You passed the test you gave yourself
The moment of congratulations sputters as
You begin to realize how very
Very far away from home you are