Travel is cathartic to the soul.
Desire seeks embellished fulfillment
through travel’s dismissal
of the familiar and thus mundane.
Self is forced to greet the unexpected,
to secretly spy and privately reflect
upon the hidden essence of humanity,
to permit the marvels
of other ways and other means,
to come face to face
with a wider spectrum of life-activity
then previously well-known,
other terms and agendas surface.
A cleaner cut of contradiction
and sharper contrasts pervade.
The internal self-rigor is alerted
towards perception and response.
Simple measures plead for attention
and action to combine in new ways.
A different sift of images pouring forth.
A stampede of snappy quick takes emerges.
A new priority of straight-forwards
become essential needs.
And always, in refrain,
the people in warmhearted reflection,
the meld of land and structures,
the performance of rituals
and deeds of the soul,
thrust forward with each moment
in unanticipated refinement,
greeted in unfathomable ways.
Travel, to me,
is cathartic to the soul,
innocently seeking expansion
as self of whole embraced . . .
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