The Trek

The distant of our journey does not count Only the direction we take; Eagles keel upward in their mount The winds chose for the falling flake. And I, I set my face to the woods When I left my house; an inward trek Measuring my life by poles and roods, Never making enough from the weekly check; And all because there was so much to know And so many mysteries to understand Reading, rejecting, testing for a glow Of that eternity in the grain of sand. In the end I should have gone to sea All along, for I was the only mystery. I should have trusted faith against history, And took the outward direction on my journey. But here I am, and I cannot otherwise Now, abandon the benefits of my surprise. For all our acts are points of learning And all we learn comes by believing.