and this nomad’s at a crossroads
Been encountering lots of poems on journeys lately.
Last Saturday morning, I saw this from LRT line 2 –
And just before I head to this coming (and crucial) Saturday, I read this one called “Entrance”, from my new Rilke book, and part of it goes –
“...in the evening step out
of your room, where you know everything;
yours is the last house before the far-off…”
I am being spoken to. I will have to weigh real good. I choose between the fairly comfortable/comforting present, or the unknown.
I don’t know. And I do not ask to earn this or that. I only ask for what is good to prevail. I believe it shall.
Right, Mr. Vernon?