Closest to true

Seven towers guide the sun into the morning sky
The didjeridu rumbles under my fingertips
A rumble which extends down into my chest
Thrums under my sternum
My body, electric, vibrates with the energy of life

Aum, it says

I sing my world into being every morning
When travelling
Like the Ancestors
Who rose up from the void
And walked the world into life
Singing
Creating
In the Dreamtime
In the time when things
And men
Came to be

Travelling, I am closer to everything

Connected to all things, yes
But, more importantly
Connected to the stuff that is not thing
Closest to the things which manifest
But are not themselves manifest
Me and true are on intimate terms

Not truth
That ephemeral quantity
Which vanishes on approach
Which becomes untrue
As soon as it is put to words

I mean true
What I know without knowing
The Way that cannot be spoken
But which can be spoken about
Truly

Travelling always brings me
Closest to true

I am not sure if this is due to
Movement
Exploration
Seeking
Opening
Seeing
Listening
Touching
Experiencing
Newness

All of it
I suspect
But it doesn’t matter
Travelling is true

As the sun climbs into the sky
And dawn becomes morning
I put the didjeridu away
Sit a while longer
On San Fracisco bay
Watching the world bring itself to life

It occurs to me
How appropriate it is
The Eastern mystics call
Being closest to true
The Way

I am always closest to it
When underway