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  >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Philosophy >> ID #1027586  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly PageTell A Friend
 THE JOURNEY Rated:
E
 Enrichment comes from the journey.
by: J.P. Farris View jpfarris9's Portfolio.  [Offline / Private]Email User: jpfarris9 [Offline / Private] Avg Rating: (10)  
I sit in a box enclosed by four walls
And a ceiling over my head.
I long for the sunshine to feel the warmth
On my face and to breathe
The fresh cool air that comes before an April rain.
I reminisce.

I walked the trails amidst the green of the mountain laurel,
Breathing the fresh air of the Smoky Mountains
Walking in the footsteps of my Cherokee grandfathers
In the land of blue smoke.

I heard the song of the crow in the trees.
I heard the rushing waters of the Tennessee River.
I stood at the foot of a roaring waterfall,
Feeling its breath and the mist on my face.

I climbed the steep mountain trails
To walk among the clouds
To breathe the air of great heights,
To feel the sunshine of great heights,
To see the nesting Peregrine Falcon of great heights.

I traversed the wooded paths of New England
In the footsteps of Thoreau around Walden Pond.
The tap, tap, tapping of my walking stick
Was familiar on the streets of Concord
As I walked past the house of Hawthorne,
Emerson and Alcott.

I walked to Sleepy Hollow Cemetery
To the Author's Ridge and paid homage at the graves
Of the authors. I stood by the bridge
Of which Emerson wrote of the shots fired
And heard around the world,
Igniting a spark that gave birth to a nation.

I felt the cold breath of the Concord River
Of which Thoreau spoke and wrote of his journeys
Rafting, traveling the course of the river.
I slept in the cool foggy night to be awakened
By the honking of snow geese
Gathered in the field outside my Concord home.

I saw the leaves painted red and yellow
Like nature's canvas torn in pieces
That flutter in the Autumn wind.
I stumbled through waist deep winter snow,
Feeling the bite of the chill wind
Against my face and my running nose.

I returned to the Texas sunshine.
I carry Concord in my heart.
I carry the mountains of Tennessee in my heart.
I sit and ponder in my box with four walls and a ceiling.
I hold to the past and look to the future.
Because, in truth, enrichment comes
Not from the wealth of reaching the destination.
Enrichment is gained by the journey.



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© Copyright 2005 J.P. Farris (UN: jpfarris9 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
J.P. Farris has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

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