The Journey

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allets's picture
Joined: 2012/08/19




Run to the corner, turn. It

is totally within your power

to redefine the nature of motion.

Inside, worry, yearn to forever hide

from the past. Keep running as if 

from a crime. The destination

will always be a myth, a mystical

dreamscape. Set a tempo.




It keeps like time measured

in increments of light slipping

through space from one source 

to an unsuspecting earth. This

feels like air inhaled, like

breath released to wisp away



Insistent voices crescendo,

most urgent to challenge you

from the potential of tumultuous

depths that make you want

to howl about needs to rise

and move. To be in full

health, pick up the pace. Keep

running. For show.




The action is the act where miles

pass beneath the heels leaving 

portions of the soul behind.

Here is where you travel in miles 

per idea, in connotations per hour.


The journey is a summons, and you 

turn dense every patch of growth

along each street passed. No one

notices you are writing down



Pulses embrace and hold

you quiet. Maturation becomes

the definition of who you

were before you began. Time

is a closure that recognizes

enough radiance to tell you,

what is permitted above and below.




Keep the heart pumping, keep

air's rush gushing as though it

were time counted from here

to where remembrance will be all

and more. Scream the question at your 

muse as you careen off a threatening 

cloud: Was it worth the pain to flee?


Run faster between uncontrollable

tears days, between rain dropping.

Nothing is worth a stop. You

knew this at starting. Long ago.




Surrender no part of you,

keep your compass point

precise. Continue in any well

construed direction as if it

were a need.


Discover the song, hum the tune

while composing lyrics like a

poet on a dare.


Drift forward, take a necessary

breath. Evolve swiftly, farthest

from the definition of lingering. 

Do not fear sirens hailing you. 

Be prepared to flow.




Tell yourself that there is no

out. Time's passage was so long it

kept only bits of the earliest



Your sojourn was like a hobo

sack, shoulder-slung, that told you

to keep trying to catch a train

when there are no more trains.


What insists that you continue

roving around inside impossible

realms? What implores you to continue

to wander? Sacred enlightenment

is for prophets. Tilt your halo.




How can anyone let so many

anomalies settle into blaring 

discord, making the touchable

comprehend the finest principles

of invisibility? Now, explain

how you keep the heart pounding

without a defibulator moment.


Your heart is your favorite part.

In the distance, inevitability

beckons. Truth keeps exclaiming:

You pass by in blur. It is better

to be an echo. Be the opposite

of slow.




If you push one solid footstep

after the next footfall, pulled

from nowhere dripping glory at all

points, then the world is working

the way the world should work.


Trials provide you with sufficient

love in the right measure to hold you

upright. Never worry in the hurry

to be the life lived without

the living. 


Dare fear to leave and in the void

suffuse the space with the exact words

that mean be here. Be here only.

Then go.




Run deftly swift as if the world

is in flames. Exit along ledges

where you may not fall into cataclysm

from chaos to emerge half-souled.


Such heat keeps you wanting the journey

to go back to the beginning and forget

the ending's inevitable halting. A

lifetime perpetuates the need to shove

away restraining hands, force away

comfortable embraces that want to hold

you. Keep challenging the stretch

of ground that leads to the waiting

future. Shrug out of distraction.

No debt to owe.




Keep it to yourself or tell only

those who are like you; travelers who

know that flight envies what you

have accomplished. The past will stay

behind you. Embrace the comforts

of this journey. Welcome distance.

Learn to grow.




Adaptation was never your destination.

Listen to that lovely voice urging you

to tread faster than the changes altering

the landscape. Acknowledge nothing hard,

nothing thrust at you as if magically 

from nowhere's center. You were born

to be someone else, somewhere else. No

pause is possible. Your journey will not

be denied. Glide and drift also.




Remember and keep secret the mental

map of the road that leads a course

around whirlwinds. This is not the time

for rapid eye moving sleep. Accelerate

even though you want nothing more

than dreamless rest.


Encourage your inescapable need to find

the sign that reveals one perfect road.

Most freeways are rocky and pit

filled. Keep the pulsing heart bounding

from a long way from this moment

to a flag-waved win far away. Do not

wait for the question. Just say, "Oh?"




You find your life whipping by

at speeds no clock ever invented

can measure. Your fingers become

wind etched, your eyes explain

as you accelerate: You will never

be alone with a past you can

no longer hear. Listen and know.




This path is not made of time spent

at rest, but in knowing what it means

to be steadfast when the course bends.

Choose to make the voyage to places

you could never imagine. On course,

pick up the pace. Ego in tow.




Your heart is hidden, kept

buried in your past for no one 

to discover. Never stop is what

your heart is pleading. Who

can imagine images unfolding 

along paths winding from a

multi-layered past merging

into this moment? Keep it still, 

unfindable. Lamenting is for later. 

Let it depart so that you can

become the essence of no.