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:


Life calls.

Meet her with silence.


Reveal yourself.

Greet him with listening.