👀: 13
The engine’s soft hum, a promise we keep,
As windows roll down in the Carolina heat.
The air is like sweet tea, a thick, hazy green,
The best kind of day, the best kind of scene.
You’ve got the map out, a smile in your eyes,
Beneath these expansive, blue southern skies.
We’re chasing a rumor, a whisper, a sound,
On winding back roads where grace can be found.
Past stands of tall pine and dogwoods in bloom,
Escaping the world in this sunlit room.
The ribbon of asphalt unwinds and then climbs,
Erasing the worries, erasing the times.
Then we hear it at first, a distant, low roar,
A secret the deep, hidden forest has stored.
We park by the trail where the rhododendron grows,
And follow the path where the cool water flows.
Your hand finds my own, a natural fit,
As sunlight through leaves is broken and split.
The air starts to chill, a fine, gentle mist,
A moment of magic I’m glad can’t be missed.
And then through the trees, a torrent of white,
Cascading on stone in the dappled green light.
A treasure discovered, a breathtaking view,
But not half as lovely or precious as you.
We stand on the rocks, worn smooth by the years,
The roar of the falls is all that one hears.
And I think that this journey, this search and this ride,
With you, my true love, right here by my side,
Is better than finding what we came to see—
The waterfall’s just an excuse, you and me.