Rich, rich as we go

I loved the moment

leaving work behind,

striding long, traveling lean,

one job done, another to come.

The way to where she was,

to where we would welcome

touch and wonder—

not right then, but coming soon—

the way to where she was

rich with byways,

forks and crossings,

some were blazed and others not.

I was fast and I was ready,

and quickly rolling through,

long and longer,

still and quiet,

alone and alone

with green leaves rustling

and winged birds soaring

and damp earth rising

In my turn,

I am rising

to move again along my path,

striding long

and traveling lean

one job done,

another to come,

and rich, rich as we go.