Headwinds and Heart

I taught you grit not in soft-spoken words,
But out where the wind howls louder than birds,
Where dust coats your teeth and the sky stays wide,
And the gravel don’t care how strong you ride.

Emporia called us with whispers of stone,
Fifty hard miles we’d tackle alone—
Or so it would seem, with the headwinds ahead,
Thirty long miles where the brave ones tread.

The Kansas wind fought us at twenty-five strong,
A punishing rhythm, an unholy song,
It pushed us back like a stubborn tide,
But grit, my son, is the will to ride.

Not when it’s easy, smooth, or fair—
But when every turn makes you gasp for air,
When your legs cry quit, and your thoughts agree,
But your heart says “kid, just follow me.”

We leaned into pain, into purpose and pride,
I watched you battle with every stride,
Your face set firm, your eyes locked true,
And I knew in that moment—I’m learning from you.

This race was more than the finish line’s glare,
More than the medal or the stories we share.
It was proving that strength lives deep in the bone,
That courage shows loudest when you feel most alone.

So when life brings storms you can’t outrun,
Remember this ride, my gravel-spun son.
Head down, heart up, keep your hands on the bar—
Grit isn’t winning. It’s knowing who you are.

© 2025 Shawn Oen. All rights reserved

The hanging star
falls to the west,
the heavens and earth
become one
and cue our travels.

Hazy smears of pink and orange
spilt the horizon
from the approaching darkness.

The road melts into shadows.
The celestial bodies awaken.
The sky goes black.

The past is put further
and further behind us
and can be seen in the
mirrors that watch our back.
We simply aviate between
two collided worlds.

Our eyes can only pick up
the yellow lights
rushing by port side
and red lights
that we pursue.
Vehicles of other travelers
searching for rest.  

In the distance the lights
of a small city
are speckled
strategically in the black.
They tell us
where the earth ends
and the sky begins.
White and yellow lines
draw our course.

We fly through the black.
Faster now.
The illuminated city peeks
in and out
of flint covered silhouettes.
It comes closer
with every intercepted minute.

Our compass points north
and we chase the arrow
until we find our final stop.