A Travel Poem
March 4, 2006
Travel tends to make me reflective, particularly as most of my travel is to interfaith gatherings or to visit friends and family. There was a time when I wrote poetry, of mixed quality, fairly often. Now the muses only seem to breath poetic stirrings into me through an airplane's compressed oxygen. This one has no title:
Patience.
Life calls.
Meet her with silence.
Action.
Reveal yourself.
Greet him with listening.