The World Moved

I’ve spent a lot of time with family, these past two weeks. I’ve done a fair amount of driving in that time – Chicago to Sawyer, Michigan and a few days later, Chicago to Cedar Rapids, Iowa. I’ve passed a lot of cars, and watched a lot of farms and houses pass by my window.

A few days ago, the closing couplet from Roger Mitchell’s poem Four Hundredth Mile popped into my head. And as it does, each time I remember those lines… it took my breath away.

I have tried to love what I thought was the world,
but the world moved. I will love the move instead.

The poem itself is good, but these final two lines… I can’t explain it. These last two lines just get to me, and seem to hit a spot inside me, deep and true.

I don’t know that I really have anywhere I’m going with this post. I’ve driven to several cities recently, and in doing so… I’ve been thinking a lot about distance and time. I seem to come back to Mitchell’s poem every few years, and recently it surprised me just how strongly I felt these lines. One minute I’m talking to someone, and the next… it’s like a hand on my chest.

Maybe, maybe if I’m lucky… one of these days, I’ll come up with some lines that are as good as these. For now though, I’ll just remain in awe of these little words, these two simple sentences that somehow evoke the world to me.

Related:
I Love The Whole World: Discovery Channel Ad That’s Just Awesome
I-65
6 Hour Drive
Four Hundredth Mile
Thick Fog, And The Long Drive To Indianapolis
Thinking About Change

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