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
We navigated
The long night
To morning’s welcome
This new shore
Beckoning
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
But there are times
Places
To not mind being
Lost
The walls seemed sculpted
Textured
With saturated tones of
Warmth
And so I walked
Aimless
Lost in the beauty of the
Walls
Until suddenly I was
Outside
Safe, yet wanting to go
Back
Sometimes it is
OK
To lose my
Self
To understand this
Is to master life
To master life
One must master death
Of space and time
Of politics and social norms
Of family and friends
The things that stay
But never stay the same
The ephemeral things
Lost and soon forgotten
Nothing ever stays
But change
Which is often the point
Of these things we do to landscapes
Change the landscape
Change each other
Change ourselves
An oppressive weight
Waiting to fall
My mood becomes dark as the sky
Until I realize the low grey cover
Provides an atmospheric parasol
A gift to soften harsh desert sun
Diminish the heat of afternoon
An invitation to step out of the car
I breathe deeply in sage-scented air
While my mood becomes effervescent
As sage drifting in the desert breeze