The further you go the more there is to look back on
so much psychic scenery a map of your own making
a topographical record of the journey
across landscape you shape from the clay you inhabit.
So solemn so often so many so longs will do that
make you less fun to be around on the merry-go-round
in the big amusement park another roadside attraction
you create to delight and distract the general public.
On you go so much more to see you can’t do it all but you can try
as you go by that way you’ll remember you’ve been somewhere
each stop along the way just another day
portions of time served up as memory.
Snapshots of people and places you’ve seen and felt
touching to be touched they can’t know you if they can’t see you
you learn that much on the trip learn it’s a far cry from a long way
and when you get this close there’s always an off ramp.
All roads lead to home no matter how far you roam
it’s like you end up where you began to realize
you had to get out in the first place so maybe where you started
determines how far you can go and what you become.
The only way out is the door you came in through
after you arrive via the maternal passageway by which we all embark
home is the first tribe we join its rites and myths inhabit a far shore
the limits we set as our own personal event horizon.
Once you leave the village lose yourself in the jungle
you come to know and fear (because you cannot unmake) nature
it’s out of your control like the voice of another like god speaking to you on the radio
broadcasting on every channel
the air waves become a river sweeping you along.
may i be…come again?
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