WHAT IS REAL?
Going back to old places is a strange experience. Crossing the coastline, hearing the elusive music of the past, allowing the forgotten sea to return its own weather. Inwardly this is to cross a coast of changes, of life spent. The murmuring of many previous passages returns, like something reborn. And yet the territory may be completely new. The old places are worn – or they have been worn – but the heart is full because it feels itself to have been sent to a region which never existed before.
Therefore I’d like to start out early in the day and reach the coast that’s only in the mind. Perhaps you’ll travel with me. The way’s quite new, it’s not been travelled before. Yet all the fruits of life are there to find. And if you’ll go with me, and me with you, to this unseen terrain, we’ll learn its secrets, which are still so hard to tell. And being, like you, a traveller in main, we’ll follow every unexpected trail.
What is real? This question intercepts us at every turn. What is real?
Territory
One coast will vanish, another appear –
you and I will cross them both together.
The strange music of one sounds to the ear,
forgotten sea returns its own weather.
This is the coast of changes, of life spent,
the murmuring of passages reborn.
The heart is full which knows it has been sent
to territory new which had been worn.
Trail
I’d like to start out early in the day
and reach the coast that’s only in the mind,
where nothing’s yet been travelled on the way
yet all the fruits of life are there to find.
I’d go with you to this unseen terrain
and know its secrets, still so hard to tell.
And being like you a traveller in main,
we’ll follow every unexpected trail.
Best wishes, today,
Landar
© landar 2010. All rights reserved.
