Getting There

You take a final step and, look, suddenly You're there. You've arrived At the one place all your drudgery was aimed for: This common ground Where you stretch out, pressing your cheek to sandstone. What did you want To be? You'll remember soon. You feel like tinder Under a burning glass, A luminous point of change. The sky is pulsing Against the cracked horizon, Holding it firm till the arrival of stars In time with your heartbeats. Like wind etching rock, you've made a lasting impression On the self you were By having come all this way through all this welter Under your own power Though your traces on a map would make an unpromising Meandering lifeline. What have you learned so far? You'll find out later, Telling it haltingly Like a dream, that lost traveller's dream Under the last bill Where through the night you'll take your time out of mind To unburden yourself Of elements along elementary paths By the break of morning. You've earned this worn-down, hard, incredible sight Called Here and Now. Now, what you make of it means everything, Means starting over: The life in your hands is neither here nor there But getting there, So you're standing again and breathing, beginning another journey without regret Forever, being your own unpeaceable kingdom, The end of endings. David Wagoner from In Broken Country