I hop on my Trek because I don't have a license
I'm embarrassed, frustrated, and surprisingly frightened
It's been years since I've ridden this metal death trap
No airbags or seat-belts or GPS maps

I flip the kick stand and cautiously pedal
Right foot over left, I'm overly gentle
The bike climbs the hill and gains speed with ease
As the chain powers past the houses and trees

The sunlight shines down with amazing ardor
No windows to block it, my skin seeking more
The handlebars hum as I bound over branches
My feet are the brushes, the pedals the canvas

I choose my own path as I fly down the trail
I got on for an errand, but that's been derailed
The things we pass by in our motored conventions
Are the sights and the sounds that now catch my attention

I begin to push up the final ascension
As my legs start to burn from overextension
But the work I've put into my impromptu journey
Has opened my eyes and dismantled my worry

What I found while biking was not at the store,
The planned destination of my primary chore
What I found while biking was spirit and freedom
The option to stray from the pavement when needed