Bleeding Edge

When one loves much – One is pained much

And traveling alone cures most all — or it makes you so sick and lonely that anything is preferable

Yet one can also meet love in the open road and take pleasure where it’s found..

And as our old friend Thoreau mused:

“There is no remedy for love but to love more.”

So I keep on walking and getting in and out of trains and buses and airplanes and then walk alone confident that the end of the road is far…. Far out of reach… Far into the night.

My dreams are my becoming home. My welcome, my sinecure, my beloved for the night…

And I follow, lanes, rivers, dames, muses and wisdom.

Moving along the path every day nearer and yet never near enough.

Trusting long dead wisdom is only helpful to the dead — yet consoles the soul…

“If one advances confidently in the direction of one’s dreams, and endeavors to live the life which one has imagined, one will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.”

Hoping for that and wishing a rest — unfold my thoughts to cover my being in the smooth silk of reverie.

Yours,

Pano

PS:

“We need only travel enough to give our intellects an airing.”

– HDT