The sea, a sunset and a poem; sometimes the journey continues not outside us, but within.
Not every journey begins with a suitcase. Sometimes you stop by the sea, look toward the horizon and discover that only a poem can express what is moving through you. A call such as “Forgive My Frailty” lets us regard our own shortcomings and weariness with a little more calm.
Reading poetry aloud is more than speaking the words. The tone of the voice, the pauses, the landscape in the background and the mood of the moment all reshape the meaning. With the sea nearby, the poem seems to widen. At sunset, the words begin to slow down.
The inward side of the road
Travel notes sometimes describe the countries we visit and sometimes the distances we open within ourselves. Poetry feels like the language of that second kind of journey.
Sometimes the farthest route is made of a few quiet steps toward one's own heart.
That is why recordings like this hold a place of their own in my travel archive.