To turn

Whether to take heed of the hastier trail
To make for an ever-foraging race;
To take one stream, one sea, one distant sail
Over all other still translucent trace?—
It is in the walking: where to? and when?
The dust of every sole; syncopated
Is each brittle step that caresses, then
As if to reach and fall ... be abdicated,
Yet at the ensuing stride usurping;
At the next turn a different point of view!
Every cloud, every tree, every codling
A new world untaught, a novel pursuit;
But follow—allow for the ease to turn
And above all the freedom to rejourn.

Dale Chou
2007-04-20