It’s not how far one travels
But what one sees
Having learned to love,
The miracle in everything
Transporting—

And meet everyone
In the heart;
For we truly live
At the core—
And every place else
A peripheral-acquaintance
But no source
Of knowing;

Know that life
Is not years—
The measure of stops
And starts;
But the middle infinity
All that matters
To time—

For the real
Is untouchable
(as are our best visions)

Safely
Out of arms reach;

Sort of like,
The face of God
That we each see differently;
Our journey to realize
Though His eyes
Always wondrously
Distant
But never far….