I

Ahead, roads rise into
Distances, expanses;
Exit after exit
Takes us further and further

Away from home,
Familiar and routine
Frameworks and schedules
Defining us. En route,

These viaducts and turnpikes,
Trails, lanes, passes,
Expressways, superhighways, freeways,
By roads and detours

Deliver us into spaces
Expanding all around us
Without end or beginning.
Nothing but light, air, water and wind.

II

Chicago, Demoines.
Out on the prairie,
The flat, mother Earth
All around us

Abandons us
In the middle of nowhere.
Still, the sky, the sunlight,
The smell of cut grass

Places us here,
Now: a shadow across
Wheat and corn
In all their abundance.

It is good to be alive,
Looking at that old farmhouse,
Remembering the homesteaders,
Imagining their lives;

Spinning, sewing, splitting logs.
And looking ahead
To where we might go from here:
Cities of libraries and art museums,

High rises overlooking Lake Michigan,
Sculpture gardens, cathedrals,
Wifi and all its applications.
Detroit. Demoines. Chicago.

III

Mountains on the horizon
Point up to the stars,
A wind from the Pacific
Brings aromas of cherry trees

From Tokyo, the smell of pomegranets
Growing on the hillsides of China,
Tastes of wildflower honey
And the snows of the Himalayas.

There is always someplace further,
Beyond you, beckoning
And calling you on,
Tempting you to leave all you've ever known

Right where it is,
To meet the face of a Sherpa
On the path to Shangri-La.
Who knows if he's an angel from God?