Sometimes I gotta get away from home and what I know.
One joins the movement in a valueless world,/Crossing it, till, both hurler and hurled,/One moves as well, always toward, toward./A minute holds them, who have come to go:/The self-denied, astride the created will./They burst away; the towns they travel through/Are homes for neither birds nor holiness/For birds and saints complete their purposes./At worst, one is in motion; at best,/Reaching no absolute, in which to rest,/One is always nearer by not keeping still.
from On the Move (Man You Gotta Go)
I wish I could explain my occasional itch to travel. I suppose it’s born from a desire to learn and see what the world has to offer (though too often, it doesn’t seem like there is much more to be seen, or it doesn’t seem worth the work it takes to see it). Or perhaps it comes from a desire to feel free from the life I have, to feel separated from what I already know. In the end, what’s best, I think, is that it helps me to see what really lies in my own little corner, whether it is my own culture or what potential lies inside of me.
In a field/I am the absence/of field./This is/always the case./Wherever I am/I am what is missing./When I walk/I part the air/and always/the air moves in/to fill the spaces/where my body’s been./We all have reasons/for moving./I move/to keep things whole.
Keeping Things Whole