Steel and Silence

 

Steel and Silence

I ride a Harley, wind in my face,

Long black road, no marked-out place.

The motor roars but the heart goes still,

Steel keeps moving when the soul won’t feel.

Some miles are smooth, some shake the bone,

Some rides you feel you’re riding alone.

The road didn’t break, the bike didn’t stall,

Just a quiet distance I can’t outrun at all.

The ego says, Something’s wrong with you,

Fix the feeling, change the view.

But Rav once said, That lack’s not yours,

It’s a crack in the bond, not a personal flaw.

I don’t pull over to polish the chrome,

Don’t tear down the bike, don’t call it home.

I carry the rattle, don’t curse the sound,

That noise belongs to the whole damn ground.

A slight disconnection, a whisper of cold,

Is not my failure, not truth being told.

It’s the ten tapping me on the shoulder,

Hold this piece — we’ll lift it together.

So I don’t ride louder, don’t twist the gas,

Don’t make a drama out of the past.

I aim the lack where the brothers stand,

Turn distance upward — that’s raising MAN.

No fix for the heart, no mood to chase,

Just give the burden a higher place.

Steel rolls on, the road stays wide,

The bike don’t pray — but the rider does inside.

And if the ride feels empty and bare,

No warmth, no rush, no signal flare,

That’s when the work is heavy and true,

When nothing feels good — and you still give it through.

No badge for this, no biker’s pride,

Just faith above reason, throttle steady, ride.

What breaks in me is not for me,

It’s fuel for the bond — that’s the work I see.