He thought as he sought a much
More beautiful thought
Not the destination
Every place I may want to go
Is a waypoint
On the way to another place
Neither the journey
What is to be gained
From moving
For the sake of movement
But once the wheels
Begin to roll
Changes begin
The promise manifests
What I see; How I think; Who I am
For I bear not the past
Carry only hope, and my staff
Tenacity
And in your eyes
I see you know
Feel the shadow
Across your soul
Confused you are
By your confusion
Where once you knew
Some clarity
As time and mind
Slip from you
So too do you
Slip from me
We navigated
The long night
To morning’s welcome
This new shore
Beckoning
The scents of sea
And conifers
Carried on the breeze
While I
Close my eyes
Breathe in
All of existence
Gathered in a moment
Spinning and spinning
In infinite space
And I no more than a mote
A sprinkling of star dust
Coalesced in flesh and bone
Which one day woke up
Asking questions about
The universe and itself
Is there more than that?
I may never know
Perhaps I simply forgot
Delightful frolics
When the clouds softened
Saw blade peaks
Rather than coat the sky
In remorseful grey
Like Today
I remember a better day
And another to come
A future memory known not by
Prescience nor forecast
Only, hope
Though patience
And softness
Cannot resolve
Every problem
The peace flowing
From their practice
Bears a reward
Of its own
As I watch
The sun set
Upon the stone
The river cut