Walk
Sometimes when I walk, I switch
off,
drift into a world of metronomed thoughts.
Striding through diverse ideas,
captured into what this time has bought.
Sure, flickered images interrupt,
a bit,
and sit still until addressed.
Maybe never... how deep have I gone,
maybe until my legs cry... "rest".
And then, back to tree and look
around,
not see, but feel where this place is.
Not allow my solitude to be undone,
by other walkers, forgotten faces.
Raised wearily but feeling good,
to resume my pace and journey in and out.
Shouldering pack and shedding weight,
gaining insight and belief, losing doubt.
This I tell and occasionally benefit,
though I wish it always were so.
But on occasion I learn a bit of me,
and truth... well that's why I go.