Monday, July 18, 2011



Maybe the high clouds
will be there before me?

As if arrival
were already true in the departure,

I close this door
and think your pulse beats in my wrists.

What does distance matter now?



  1. infinitude(s) here. i'm not sure even which question to ask. but certainly, there are answers.


  2. ganz wundervoll, tief berührend erreicht dein Gedicht mich ganz, ganz nah in meinen derzeitigen Träumen und Gedanken. Es ist ein großes, sehr sehr gutes von dir lieber James.

    innige Grüße von der Reiselustigen auf der Suche nach Antworten,


  3. Travel, you either love it or hate it. I love it since it means adventure, discovering new places, people and things. It means getting to know there is more out there then beyond the rock and tree in your own backyard and getting to see these incredible places in person and to know that they really exsit other than in a magazine picture or seeing it on tv.

  4. eris: are there answers? i'm not sure that i want them....

  5. Susan: It is a paradox,how much stillness exists at the heart of travel. One attains an anonymity, gliding almost unseen through the lives of anonymous others, and yet the destination burns quietly inside, like a still candle in a still room.

  6. Isabella: Vielen Dank für Ihre guten Wünsche :-)

  7. musicwithinyou: Yes, it is always a wonder to me, this discovery that distant places are real, that they have their life that goes on, unperturbed by my absence or by my presence....

  8. As if arrival
    were already true in the departure...

    not always, but sometimes it is, and then there is magic... :-)
    though, i think, sometimes it is not even that important that it is not, simply departing, without ever coming to a destination, is enough, has already changed us, forever...

  9. ps. the check-word for this comment was "mists"
    travelling through mist, without ever knowing what one searches for, yet forever searching, dimly...

  10. Roxana: magic when one travels through the noise and movement of cites, through the lives of anonymous strangers -- and all the time the arrival, that place, that person, burns quietly and purely inside, a still candle in a still room....

    mists ... yes :-)