Some days the
mysteries loom large,
Caught in the brambles
of the rain
Like scraps of sacking
from an
Inelegant traveller's
bulging tote-all.
I know only that the road
leads,
Not where: the following
has little
Of volition, less of coercion.
What can be is: what is
will shape
The landscape of the winds.
It must be that I will
always
Want the countertwining
mindbeat most
On nights when shadows
hide.
- David W. Mitchell
to
David / to
Moongate