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On Waiting, and Magallanes

The great lesson I learned under infinite skies:

Nothing is waterproof; everything dries.

A cardinal corridor ‘twixt contrasting strokes,

Delicate moss beneath billowing smoke,

Those clouds imperturbable bated my breath

And watched with me placidly life unto death.

Where forests of legend grow out of their fathers

And travellers lost shall find no other wanderers.

My footprints shall disappear soon after I;

They soak in the smallness and sink down inside.

Along with our shoes and our egoes and more,

Arrogance scattered from summit to shore.

But there are horizons I haven’t yet found.

The simplest changes with only a sound,

And strange it will seem if when searching I die

Whilst the view just before me will shift with a sigh.

Learn from the landscape of fire and ice.

Experience, fear, of indefinite size.

Watch for the sun breaking over your shoulder—

A lengthening stride does not mean that you’re older.

The corridor widens to unfettered eyes:

Nothing is waterproof; everything dries.

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