The Wayfarer

 

He was looking for the clean gesture -

The shining act, the unbroken line

Between the dream and the dreamed-of thing,

Between intention and the reaping-in.

 

From a height he could all but see it:

The valley running from peak to peak,

The river joining the separate places

Like a stitch in the fabric of the world.

 

But at ground level the view was different.

The valley was rocky and far from straight;

As for the river, it was unforgiving,

As angry as beautiful, and very cold.

 

This was the test, he realized:

To travel the line he could not see;

To make a straight path out of broken pieces

Or see a path where none appeared.

 

And part of him wondered if it would be worth it

To travel the river, or walk the valley floor

If nature herself were not set against him

With all her venom and her brambly tricks.

 

They say the journey is the destination,

But really the journey is everything;

There is no end, but only an ending;

There is no path, but we walk it anyway.