Not necessary,
those foreign climes
of which we often dream.
Not workable
our vain imagining
of whom we’d like to be.
Not logical
to say what if,
not facing what is real.
Our journey is progressive,
moving in serendipitous ways:
one can’t really know
if here and now
isn’t really there and then.
The secret,
gleaned from atop a mount
where the guru hid away,
is simply to continue
being you, each and every day.
And when tomorrow dawns,
as tomorrows always do,
just realise
that now is here,
and you are always you.
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