My life is sometimes like that sad folk song

Playing on NPR on the drive home

I can envision the singer in an old western hat

He’s probably sitting in a cabin

His voice is a drone

I wonder what happened to make it like that

He sings about curtains

There’s an unspoken rift

I wonder if anything is for certain

I still think life is a gift

Me and my husband were driving home from the rock gym

On a Monday night in silence

We’ve been climbing rocks our whole lives

How long have we been slippin’

But like the middle of that folk song, there’s a surprise

Like Sarah and Abraham

We’re in the grand story

Guided by the I am

Life wouldn’t be what it is without the rocks

We’re sprawled out on the wall trying to reach for the next one up

I grab his hand

We’re at the mercy of the clocks

I don’t think I believe in luck

Driving home we’re taken to that log cabin

With aching forearms and cracked fingertips

By the end of the song we’re home

For each other we’ve always been grabbin’ – beyond the rift

We get out of the car

His tired arms and hands grab my hips

We embrace and kiss

Beneath the stars I hear him hum it

We hold each other and approach the summit