The Journey
THE JOURNEY
What a joy it could be to sit
in a far going train with you,
- to look into the window
for some time keeping silent
and in the glass darkling
- to discern your soul passing
among the moving crowds
and fields and hills and clouds,
not part of the firmament -
just seeming, since the true
you sits facing me too
in this small compartment,
- to hear your silent voice
hearing my own heart’s joys.
It is the journey endless,
the pilgrimage which binds us,
for there is no last hour.
The train far going is our
unspoken commitment bound
to a future not yet found.
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