Horizon Look to the horizon That lies alluring close That impossible horizon Which tantalizes and tempts Yet lies forever distant unattainable For while the fortunate few may travel And constant chase that silvered line For others the horizon remains the barrier An entrapment, static in the known and near A confinement in the vicinity of the familiar A shackle forever tied around resigned lives Lives that stare desirous to travel Yet bound to dreams unrealised And dreams that will remain Rooted in fertile imagination Planted in earth, sand and sod Cloying and cool between the toes Of those bent double for decades To sow and harvest field and paddy Sands that shift with carefree disdain Stinging the lone fisherman’s cheeks Free to travel with the rampant wind While the bound, unfree remain In futile, hopeless imagination Of places far beyond the horizon A lifetime of sad understanding Of what will never be seen ______________________________ To be fortunate to travel and visit, live and work amongst other cultures in foreign lands is a privilege. We should never forget that those we often meet in countries less well developed or economically stable, may never set foot outside of their country in their lifetime. Some will rarely travel beyond their village or town. While we can follow our dreams and chase the horizon, I often wonder what people who are not able to travel think when they see the horizon...or these temporary, fleeting, visitors that pass in and out of their lives Photo taken on the north coast of Central Java, Indonesia.
