A remote place
Which is the remote place?
One that few ever see
but each love deeply
Or one which countless pass
but never care to know?
One gently trod
at the periphery
Or one trampled by
anonymity at the centre?
Whose periphery?
Whose centre?
Source
A constant confluence
of countless disparate droplets
We seek a Source as though there’s one
when Source is root and dew and sun
A constellation underfoot and overhead
all that flows where all is led
It can never be enough
yet always is