Without Direction Poem by RIC BASTASA

Long journeys
make the mind forget a while
what is missing
to the eyes

long bus rides
grappling with winding
roads

bumpy boats struggling with
big waves

planes that
seem to feel the casualness
of air pockets

time is a stretcher
where we lay our bodies
like patients
on the wards

we can be positive
though
about the feelings of
going back home

where there is
jubilation for having
arrived at last

this sense of being
back and being
comforted once again

by the arms of home
by the softness of pillows
and warmth of beds
and blankets

all these
to and fro
pendulum like
swinging from here
and there

killing time and
burying it decently
folded neatly
in its niche

and i shall love it
when we sing
the final hymn....