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Posts Tagged ‘journey’

 

 

 

That’s what cars are for,

said the master whistler, when I told him

I could not whistle.

I auditioned for him

with my one-note draft,

and he said, Yeah, I

can work with that,

which I took to mean

that I could work with that.

Eventually, he said,

you’ll arrive at a tone.

And so I whistled

four hours as I drove north,

starting with Moon River,

Skylark, and Paris in Springtime,

then, demoralized

by lack of progress,

turned on the eighties station

and created a breeze

to accompany INXS, Howard Jones,

Prince and Tone Loc.

The difference between

what I heard in my head

and what came from my lips—

so much beauty

missing. And just

before arriving at my own

front door, I had somehow

begun a gusty rendition

of When the Saints Go Marching In,

and thought to myself,

yeah, I think I might

be getting it, but five

verses later laughed

at my longing for success.

When I opened the door

of the car, I felt the wind

meet my face. I let it

carry the almost notes

and decided tomorrow

I’d try some Moondance

and Fever before Hot Cross Buns,

knowing how it takes

a lot of wind

before one’s ship comes in.

 

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All This Time

 

 

 

calling it a journey

when we have never

stopped arriving

 

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Though you may not come home happy,

you do come home changed.

That is what the trip was for.

 

The door is the same. The handle,

the same. Same couch. Same lamp.

Same chair. But the one who opens

 

the door is not the same as before.

You can pretend if you want.

Most do: Act the old way until

 

they forget they are new.

Sometimes, the change takes charge.

Sometimes it invites itself

 

to dinner. And then breakfast.

By lunch, even the dishes are wondering

what will happen next.

 

(my son just returned from 10 days at camp–wow, what a difference 10 days can make!)

 

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Perspective

 

 

I’ve got a wide, a wide river to cross.

            —“Wide River to Cross” by Julie Miller, Steven P. Miller

 

 

Perhaps when the river

we must cross is so wide

and the journey

to just to get to the river is so long

that our legs and arms are weary

before we even reach the shore,

perhaps that is when

it helps to remember

that the heart is infinite

in how much it can love,

and dang if that journey

across the river

doesn’t seem all that far

after all and the body

shudders and trembles

finds a way to take

one more step, and

one more step.

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