Book One: Green Meadows

Chapter Two:

Adventure

It had seemed a good plan when he'd left on his eighteenth birthday for America. Three years service didn't seem so long compared to a life away from the Puritan government insistent on destroying the only thing in life besides his siblings that had ever mattered to him. It was still hard for John to admit that he'd had no future of much consequence on the stage even before the Globe had been outlawed and then destroyed. Perhaps it was just that the thought of living in a society that gave his father its stamp of approval was more than he was able to attempt at that time of his life. He'd found a surprising ally, once again, in the shop owner that hated to see him go but put up the cost of the voyage in a three way agreement with a cousin in America. The cousin needed indentured servants to help him reap the benefits of the land he'd been granted in Virginia. He was willing to pay a sizable amount to the shop owner for every young, strong, able person he was able to sign into servitude. The false artisan claimed the amount of his repayment was paltry. John knew that was a lie but was not bothered by being caught in a web of commerce just one step up from the slave trade. In fact, he was grateful, or had been until shortly after the vessel had entered oceanic waters.

Back Seat Driver


Two for one
He's been hiding out
I heard what he said, it came from my head,
My cords and out of my mouth
He doesn't or won't
Recognize
The situation he's in
The work that we do, the life that we live
Must not be too bright
He's been here all along
Still he insists he does not possess
Skills that I've lived by
While he took time to digress
Detour from fated path
Too mundane perhaps
To somewhere, something resembling happiness
Must have been some bumps
In his lofty choice
Because here he is again
Complaining
About where I've come to without him
Two for one
Here he is being something he's not
Craftsman, ha,
He can't use that excuse
Knows full well his destiny, knows full well
Reports he was fated to transcribe
Vision he was given to manifest
For earthly eyes
But ungrateful, cowardly human being
Stared gift horse in the mouth
And wasted time shredding wrap
Into tiny, inconsequential pieces
Knowing full well that contents required no palpation
Clearly seen, clearly seen
He always wants to understand
Rather than transcribe
To touch
Rather than appreciate
From prescribed position within parameters
Pre-ordained
Feeling cheated once again
Left out of the equation
Accusing me as if I had unilateral choice
Of unknown variables, distances, and place
Two for one, perhaps three,
Parallel roads take on a new dimension, unneeded
And without reward
Vantage divided easily turns
One into two for discriminating eyes
Traps observers into pining for another's direction
Don't be fooled by sweet mirage
You're traveling the only road
And it only goes one way