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A Path through Grass

 

A path through grass

worn as an old hoehandle

and pale as silver.

The silent things

that build bridges so many places,

roads after dead people, a handle,

a path in the field

moves like an unreal thing through the summer,

moon bridges build over the green seas.

 

Rolf Jacobson

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Walking is really the only kind of locomotion that puts us on equal terms with the world about us. Our modern mechanical methods of transportation tend to make us lose sight of our relative importance.

     Fillipo de Fillipi  (1932)

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Traveling this high

mountain trail, delighted

by wild violets.

 

 Basho (trans. by Sam Hamill)