At The Destination Poem by R. H. Peat

At The Destination:

All the blue sky above the oaks
is too much to hold without wonder.

It is always the journey itself
that is held in great significance.

So, in density the wild dreams arrive.

The bystanders never understand
the beating heart of the runner who
only runs because he loves to run.

The spotted petals on the orange
Tiger-lilies call out my name
It's the first time we've met this year,
yet we willfully laugh together.

The end of the road could be as far
away as Death Valley; it doesn't matter.

The purple Wave-Petunias silently
shout velvet-glory into stilled retinas
along the voyage like gilded goldfish
swimming around in dark pools.

© RH Peat 7/20/2011
Form: 7 stanzas/ 18 lines
Published: Canada: 'In Transit: Poetry of People on the Move'
Border Town Press — 2014