September 2009

Heading Out

Beyond here there’s no map.
How you get there is where
you’ll arrive; how, dawn by
dawn, you can see your way
clear: in ponds, sky, just as
woods you walk through give
to fields. And rivers: beyond
all burning, you’ll cross on bridges
you’ve long lugged with you.
Whatever your route, go lightly,
toward light. Once you give away
all save necessity, all’s
mostly well: what you used to
believe you owned is nothing,
nothing beside how you’ve come
to feel. You’ve no need now
to give in or give out: the way
you’re going your body seems
willing. Slowly as it may
otherwise tell you, whatever
it comes to you’re bound to know.

“Heading Out,” is from SELVES by Philip Booth, ©1990. Used by permission of Viking Penguin, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. For online information about other Penguin Group (USA) books and authors, see the Internet website at: http:www.penguin.com. Philip Booth was an award winning poet. He was born in New Hampshire and lived for many years in Maine, where he was a member of the Castine Unitarian Church.