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Mountains
so pure.
Oceans so raw.
Lands so far away, exotic.
Peoples and cultures, diverse, untethered.
Futures so electric, they turn me giddy.
Small
cottages on Indian beaches in which to live, …and write, …and
think, …and feel.
Pacific islands full of sun, sand, warmth, full of living anthologies
to journey and explore.
Dusty South American highways, deep mountain tracks, civilizations ancient
and new.
Yaks, monks, yurts, higher lands, higher consciousnesses, lessons and
adventures in living and dying.
I
see unfinished tendrils everywhere, lost trails and paths not taken, left
wanting in this world.
My muscles tense rigid against the dizzying potential they hold, my heart
cries in torment for not
knowing them. These are futures unmet; they hold friendships, loves, tragedies
and tears, adventure and
misadventure, unimaginable highs, lows, indescribable moments of nirvanic
stillness …they are
commutations with a universe that is rushing and revolving in constant
swirliness about us.
Super-tramps
I feel we are in this life, riding surges of opportunity, slow releases
of intensity playing
out in our chosen pathways. Joyous and lucky we are, but oh, …oh
to be able to live them all, to be
able to visit and ride each one wholly, and intimately, to their very
ends!
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