I crossed the gleaming sea last week
flew on whispering wings of silver
made soft landing on the Long White Cloud:
When I left these shores decades ago
the mountains were mountains
and the rivers were rivers
and I was me.
And the mountains are mountains
the rivers are rivers
yet – their murmurings are now clear:
“We are but shadows!
The infinite incandescence
that displays our brilliant landscape
is the unlit Light
of your own Being.”
How sweet to find
that the only luggage I needed to bring
has always been on board –
going everywhere I roam
and lighting up every dark, lonely moment,
every quiver of earthly joy.
– miriam louisa