These poems come from the wandering restless part of my pilgrim soul. Some come from actual voyages. Some are the navigation poems that chart the parts of me that always try to help me find my way, wherever I am - outward or inward bound. Some report the sightings of other wanderers. Some simply become natural metaphors.This collection only offers reveries and imaginings, mainly gleaned from past travels. In the end, perhaps this is what we need: an opportunity to dream, to fantasize about making our way to else-wheres, without any particular agendas that need to be driving usIn a sense we are all out-bounders, outbound for elsewhere. And where might "elsewhere" be? Does it really matter?There's an irony here. Life is made of so much irony, enigma and paradox. These poems come from the solitude of the outward voyage, that leads of course to the inward voyage. And this kind of voyaging seems always to signify a solitary vision quest. Alone. Bereft of human contact. I had to voyage in order to appreciate fully what this really means.Voyages begin with a vision of getting away, and then of arriving at new things. But we take a lot with us when we travel, and in our minds we find things we might not have found as readily, if we'd stayed at home. We discover, and then we come home.
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