It is an early autumn morning
The sky is entirely cloudless
Except for the silky moon
Which looks so like a tiny cloud.
Back towards the city there is a dull haze
And ahead on the road there is a soft mist
Gently illumined by the rising sun
So it takes on a lovely golden gleam.
Above in the sky are two seagulls
Gracefully soaring on the subtle winds
Which I cannot feel
But the gulls tell me they are there.
Why are these beautiful gulls so far from the sea?
And why do they fly and fly so high in the sky?
I do not believe they are merely searching for food
Methodically quartering the land beneath
As we would do, always so intent on fixed goals.
No, their flight is art.
As I look up I do believe
I see one gull eyeing me, as if to say
“I am free!
Look at me
You can be
All you are meant to be.”
Poems of our journey