About six years ago I had just left work and was riding my 2001 Harley-Davidson Sportster,  when proceeding through a green light, got hit by a truck that didn’t see me as it was making a left turn.  It was the end of May, early in our riding season and I spent the summer mending a broken leg, spending most of my time resting, reading and writing on the back deck of my home. 

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to get back on a motorcycle, as getting hit by a truck makes you sit back and take a look at your life – where you’ve been, and where you’re going.  But when I’d hear the motorcycles roar up and down the streets of my neighborhood, I wanted to be out there tearing up the road and feeling the wind in my face, too.  The whole experience was one of the best things that has ever happened to me, believe it or not.  It was then that the idea for Sirens Motorcycle Club was born.  And this poem, too.

The Crash

Riding my Harley

One bright, sunny day

Crashed into a truck

That turned in my way

 

Broke my leg fast – shin bone- in two

The only injury

What else can I do

But wonder how lucky

A person should be – especially one

as blessed as me

 

What was I thinking?  Was I awake?

Has God sent me a message?

How long will it take

To figure it out

 

Do I look at the obvious

or dig deep within?

Searching for clarity

Freedom from sin

 

Am I kinder, more honest, grateful and true?

Or immature, selfish, spoiled, blue?

Still plagued by fear, worry and want?

Or determined to live a life minus the haunt

Of those enemies

 

Should I stop wearing makeup

Start driving the car?

Eat vegetarian

Say no to the bar?

 

Every minute since then,

4:30pm,

my Self has awakened

to feelings like them

 

Bones broken; bones heal.

The inner discussion

rolls on like the wheel on my bike

that I busted that day

I crashed into a truck

That turned in my way

 

Jennifer Clor

June 2002