A Meditation on the West
Gazing westward in the glowing, closing moments of the day,
Sky and cloud transformed in that penultimate moment
When day meets night, wake meets sleep, thought meets dream
In those precious seconds when we are golden.
Let me be as autumn leaves in a crescendo of color
Before spiraling on chilly breeze to seize the future,
Joining sun to stem, green to gold, sap to soil,
In a journey of restless, relentless transformation.
Stepping resolutely into the poet's open road,
Singing of the joy of the void and endless possibilities,
New land, new people, new visions, new tragedies, new me,
The place where answers live if we only knew the questions.
Go west young man, old woman, master, servant, native, gay,
You are here, look up, look out on the unfolding journey that swims like stars,
Hoping, plotting, tripping, falling, failing, but rising again
To nail up sign posts and build bridges for seekers who will come after.
As in prophecy of old, all will be transformed in the twinkling of an eye,
Water flows, tosses and turns, seeking, longing until it finds rest,
Stopping an instant before launching skyward as mist and cloud,
Safely crossing scorching desert to return as rain, and journey anew.
Sky and cloud transformed in that penultimate moment
When day meets night, wake meets sleep, thought meets dream
In those precious seconds when we are golden.
Let me be as autumn leaves in a crescendo of color
Before spiraling on chilly breeze to seize the future,
Joining sun to stem, green to gold, sap to soil,
In a journey of restless, relentless transformation.
Stepping resolutely into the poet's open road,
Singing of the joy of the void and endless possibilities,
New land, new people, new visions, new tragedies, new me,
The place where answers live if we only knew the questions.
Go west young man, old woman, master, servant, native, gay,
You are here, look up, look out on the unfolding journey that swims like stars,
Hoping, plotting, tripping, falling, failing, but rising again
To nail up sign posts and build bridges for seekers who will come after.
As in prophecy of old, all will be transformed in the twinkling of an eye,
Water flows, tosses and turns, seeking, longing until it finds rest,
Stopping an instant before launching skyward as mist and cloud,
Safely crossing scorching desert to return as rain, and journey anew.
