The Pilgrim Who Never Leaves Home Poem by Alla Bozarth

Being well of soul but ill of body
could be a grim pill for a world-traveler,
who revels in the sacred sights, sounds, tastes and smells,
and in touching the thoughts and dreams of Earth and her cosmos.

But~~ in deep solidarity with human beings, trees, all
flora and fauna in our countless species,
now in the wilderness, now in the city,
now in the elegant village or harbor town shanty~~
all lines lead in paisley patterns to interstitial flows
of convergence~~

Croatian/ Venetian/Austrian/Italian Trieste;
the Eiger Pass; Paris; St. Petersburg, Russia;
Grasmere, Windermere and Norwich; Coventry and Hiroshima;
Lisbon; Prague; New Delhi; Lhasa; Calcutta and Lourdes;
Cape Town; Victoria Falls; the Valley of the Kings and Queens;
Jerusalem and Banias; Sitka; Granada; Cordoba; New York
and Carmel~~ to begin.

Then the Solar System with its fascinating bodies of darkness and light,
beyond the Milky Way to the Andromeda Galaxy... Then to Earth again,
the Mediterranean, the Caspian, the Irish Seas; Scotland and Ireland;
then home, to explore the unknown lands where I live most intimately...
the past and the future~~

Meanwhile, love’s treasury of friends old and new brings music,
dance, paintings and sculptures and the world to me
in stories and imagery. Their adventures and travels generously
shared, I attend. I am with them on every cobblestone,
in every refugee camp and jungle, on every river, desert and glacier;
where new islands are shaping from newborn volcanoes,
and ancient ice melts into lakes from jade green to turquoise.
I observe the plight of the polar bear, the birth of the loon,
meet human beings whom I will never see with these mortal eyes,
but whose lives I cherish as my own, hear their voices with the true hearing
ear of my heart and see their eyes with the true seeing eyes of my soul.
They become me. I am everywhere. I am everyone.


From My Blessed Misfortunes by Alla Renée Bozarth, copyright 2011.
All rights reserved.
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