Paul de Jong narration

The road between
Orangeville and Listowel
stretched ahead of me,
endlessly.
A fine drizzle obscured
the ploughed fields
on either side of the road.
Miserable, unendurable,
downright nasty weather,
gnawing
at the memory
of sun-drenched fields,
a morning sun shimmering
through silver leaves
of birch trees beside a
happy Ontario lake.
My car radio wasn’t
in a happy mood either.
Snatches of CBC Toronto
hesitated to cross
the bitumen of the glistening
endless road I traveled.

The music was Wagner,
heavy, foreboding Wagner.
An alto voice floating on an
immense orchestra, bewailing
the misery of the world.
A penny for my thoughts!
She’s seen nothing yet!
Such external signals of
misery, played havoc with
the internal mass of soft
undulating greyish matter
underneath my skull.
I thought of Dad,
eighty-five, stroke,
nursing home, unable to
communicate.
I worried about our mortgage
about to be renewed, mumbled
a few unkind words, in the
general direction of Ottawa.
I though about …..

Then it happened!
The sky, the sky, the sky
bled open!
Ahead of me … lo and behold,

Palmerston in dazzling sunlight!
As if on cue,
the radio program changed.
A Vienna waltz suddenly
one – two – threed through
my van, and I felt like
waltzing it over the road
using the centreline
as guide.
As a law-abiding citizen
you just don’t do a
thing like that
of course.
I grinned,
I laughed aloud.
Nobody sees you anyway,
on the road
between
Orangeville and Listowel
Imagine,
Imagine what the eternal sun
of God’s grace
can do to our lives.