On a Rainy Night

Sitting here in the passenger seat,
Watching the lightening strike across the sky, the rain falling be wiped by the blades

Each tear cried is felt for something even more insignificant, and the music plays.

Waiting to feel as if nothing is wrong; with each mile crossed, nothing needs to be fixed; which each city passed, nothing wanted or needed.

The passenger seat, where you have no control of where you're going. You just have easier access to the music. To the air conditioner. No control of where the car is going.

The lightening striking across the sky. The rain, covering the road, the metal, the trees, the wheels. There is nothing else.

Can someone hold that there, being nothing else, should be no feelings associated with this, with this night, this rain, these lightening storms.

We can hope. Can wish. Can want there to be something. Because there is light from the storm. It brightens the sky and for just those instances, my tear streaked face can be seen.

But no one is looking.

Does it mean anything. Does it love anything. Can it?
Moving through each instance, there are just lights to be seen. Red and white, the occasional yellow. So many of those that even they do not mean anything in this night.

Absolutely nothing.