While the journey is part of the destination,
they sometimes have a change of heart
and wait for you to decide whether they are
one or wide apart.
While the map sometimes dawns in misty blue,
and you travel not knowing how to
leap from A to B, from Google maps to the ocean,
you and him decide, inches apart, you are one
but life-size. The trains are not modeled,
the landscape is real. Your toes in mud, glasses blurred
in your pocket. Music in your ears, him on your mind,
love on your sane, you are miles apart.
The train runs on schedule and does not wait- Wait!
While you pack all your wisdom, your knowledge unravels,
reveals all its layers, you discover there are levels.
The journey is a draft, your pages you scribble
with every step and every letter!
Whether or not yet edited, your destination, you direct it-
until the book no longer opens and hindsight runs back
for the front cover. And your destination turns out
not to be the plot, just a journey
waiting for a character to arrive.
You might like it better if you co-wrote the pages
with loves and climbed a little higher. (Vertigo? Now there’s a twist!)
What if those pages were a play?
Your destination be the final bow. Better
to be the playwright and cash in somehow.
So be one, be miles apart. With many. All-in. Journey on,
travel light. Listen to your B, catch your rolling oceans,
sign for the mud on your toes, taste your beautiful sight.
You are finding it now, you are finding it now.