Destinations

We’re in such a hurry
          that we miss
                    our real destinations —
                              we need to observe

that flock of pigeons
          along the way,
                    roosting on
                              a flat roof

pebbled with
          white stones,
                    cooing and contented
                              in the late warmth

of November
          sun, beyond which
                    lies the river,
                              and its reflection,

throbbing
          as it flows,
          before it empties
                              into the sea.

We need to remember
          to return
                    to the source,
                              whose center

can be referenced
          anywhere, blessed
                    by the name
                              beyond names;

transcribed by us,
          through each act,
                    our auras pulsing,
                              as in knowing

when one has
          finally arrived,
                    crouched among
                              the stones,

hiking
          snowy mountain,
                    the stream
                              having drawn us
off the trail,

          as if the light
                    were a sound
                              rushing in our ears.

— Wally Swist

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Wally Swist’s new book, “Luminous Dream,” was chosen as a finalist in the 2010 FutureCycle Poetry Book Award. His scholarly monograph, The Friendship of Two New England Poets, Robert Frost and Robert Francis, was published by The Edwin Mellen Press in 2009. A recording of a poem from his reading in the Sunken Garden Poetry Festival, accompanied by jazz cellist Eugene Friesen, a member of Paul Winter Consort, is archived at npr.org.