[image from google - getoutzine.com]
Traveler is readying herself
to make another journey.
Her kit bag of memories
is stuffed beyond reason.
It nourishes her well,
but weighs more heavily
on her shoulders
with every passing season.
Her feet are moving forward
but her head keeps looking back.
There is knowledge from those times
that she still lacks.
She wants to find the spot
where the trail ahead
grew so much shorter
than the long way she had come.
The time when hopes and dreams,
songs left unsung,
stopped circling 'round,
slid into the past,
and Presence
became her only
standing ground.
The closer she gets
to taking leave of this world,
the more beautifully it shines.
How will she ever
close her eyes on it
one last time?
one last time?
And those perfect
puffy clouds
against blue sky?
How they draw
her wondering
bemused eye,
like a child's painting
of perfection,
each one
more lovely
than the last,
as the seasons
turn and change,
and far too quickly
and far too quickly
hasten past.
The trouble with
this journey?
It has
an ultimate destination,
she an unwilling passenger
who wants to keep on riding
beyond the final station.
The trouble with
this journey?
It has
an ultimate destination,
she an unwilling passenger
who wants to keep on riding
beyond the final station.