Two Traveling Poems

                                       

The Last Star of the Morning

Traveler walks like a moving tree,

like a wind-whisper, singing,

like the breath of dawn.

Traveler is a part of the landscape;

she carries with her

a corner of the sky.

Traveler rises with the morning sun.

She is always walking towards

the next sunset.

There is the last star of morning

on her shoulder.

She wears the first star of evening

in her hair.

The moon is her mistress,

a songbird flies from branch to branch

beside her, and a

wolf-shadow companions

her every step.

***

Dark and Light

Light and dark, the two sides

of the inner voyager:

striving always towards the light,

she still remembers

moments of weakness,

of darkness and despair,

times when she was so much less

than she should or could

have been.

At some point,

she lifts this dark companion

onto her back.

It weighs her down,

yet can't be left behind.

It holds messages and teachings

she must embody.

She must carry

the weight of this lifetime

until the end

of the journey.

Even so, with the added weight

of all of the failures,

the embarrassments,

the imperfections,

the shortcomings,

the stumbling,

the flailing, the falling,

and the rising again,

with all the stopping

and the starting out,

the wayfarer still arrives

at this leg of the journey,

more or less on time.

Ahead lies

the long unknown path

leading to the anteroom

of her final destination.

A little late,

a little the worse for wear,

but with an indomitable

and undefeated spirit,

she continues on,

knowing she gave it all she had,

can't do it over,

can't do it better,

did the best she could.

***

One April, I wrote a series of traveling poems. I didn't so much write them as take dictation. The words just came. The series of poems that month was, in itself, a journey. 

Earthweal is contemplating The Journey this week.