We speak of places we would like to go,

looking out at destinations,

places far away,

towns that held us spellbound--

sharing now this breeze that lets us drift

like clouds.

It’s good to wander off like that with you,

looking off at where we’d like to be.

Our voices grow excited as we speak

of places we could show each other,

spend sometime exploring,

not quite realizing we are saying

let’s be travelers for awhile,

let’s go off together over mountains.

Yet, while we speak,

playing with the world in front of us,

forgetting we are spinning

through a universe of stars,

I swallow and go downward

towards another view:

islands in me,

lands I must sail to and know,

beaches dimly seen now

with harbors blinking

and high above them

hilltops to climb and fields to sow.

You know the places that I mean.

You see them rising in you,

calling--places you must go,

hilltops to be climbed,

fields you, too, must sow.

Somehow, our traveling brought us

to this creek, to this time,

to these words we speak,

these dreams we share,

this knowledge of ourselves

blinking like harbor lights,

this whirling day,

this moment of wandering through the skies,

looking off and smiling

at the glow in each other’s eyes.