A Walk


My eyes already touch the sunny hill.
Going far ahead of the road I have begun.
So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp;
It has inner light, even from a distance-

And charges us, even if we do not reach it,
Into something else, which, hardly sensing it,
We already are; a gesture waves us on
Answering our own wave…
But what we feel is the wind in our faces.


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A Walk