It doesn’t matter if you live by the sea,
or in the middle of a city, under a light
that flickers like a bad idea in your head,
with taxis racing past and the air thick
with the sound of all things urgent—people
filling the streets like the pages of a book,
each one turning quickly, looking for meaning
as if it could be found in a pair of shoes
or a café with tables too small for what we need.
You might be tucked away in the quiet hills,
watching a deer walk across your lawn,
or you might be on the thirteenth floor of a tower
that leans a little to the left, with a view
of a parking lot or a skyline made of glass.
None of it will matter when the wind decides
to carry you away, or when the rain falls
in the same pattern as your thoughts.
You will always be where you are,
and it will always be just a place.
YOU ARE READING
21 Poems Of Reflection
PoesíaA compilation of reflective poems I wrote upon reading Miyamoto Musashi's book Dokkōdō (The Way of Walking Alone). The 21 principles in his book inspired me to write the poems you're about read here.
