a longer hike

Godspeed ye, sir
upon your path
with forward eyes
and steady gait

into a tunnel, broken
ceiling, blue between
the interlace

of green and grey
and black and brown -
and dun, the dusty floor
beneath

no olden king
had such a hall, no tapestry
for walls like these.
no ornament but your own gaze
to hang upon
each thing it sees

look deeply left and deeply right
and deeply up
- and what you've seen,
let deeply in,
to settle on
to contemplate in time serene

such time as is unfolding
now
and always has; the difference
is now you are immersed in it
it lives in you
a perfect fit