From Going Away « The Sacred Art of Language.
Going Away
I am going away again
Away from the constant
Hustle and noise –
The incessant bee-hive drone
Of the city
Out there past the land of pick-up trucks
And gravel dust
And corn fields waving in the wind
Out there deep in the hills
Where a lonely two-lane winds
Through primeval forest
Where the streams run cold and clean
And the stars shine bright and clear
Where all the notes of Nature’s song
Sing out loud and un-obstructed
Out there the whole Earth is like a great drum
Pulsing with life and music
And I am a bead of sweat glistening on its skin
Dancing to the rhythm
I’ll find a little lake shore
Somewhere out there
Somewhere no one ever goes
And by the light of a dying fire
Fall asleep, listening…
To the bullfrogs down by the water
To the locusts that are everywhere singing out
From the lush and living green
To the ethereal music of the heavenly spheres
Heard not with the ears but with the heart
There where the black top ends
My wanderings will have only just begun…
For I am going waaaaay out there
Where no path leads
To that mystic space, beyond beyond
Where I flow with the rivers
With the life-blood of the pines
Where I whirl with the wind
With the sky, with the moon
And I dance on the invisible strings
That weave together stars and planets
I’m going away, far away
Where my soul can rest…
~ Ben
Loving the idea in the photo: the BEGINNING is near, & not the usual end