To see nothing anywhere but what you may reach it and pass it,
To conceive no time, however distant, but what you may reach it and pass it,
To look up or down no road but it stretches and waits for you,
(...)
To know the universe itself as a road, as many roads, as roads for traveling souls.
Walt Whitman: Song of the Open Road (poem), chapter 13
Walt WhitmanAmerican poet 31 May 1819 — 26 March 1892 |
quoted by Rolf Potts - VagabondingPage 27 |
Details:Submitted by: bodr Time of publication: February 4, 2012 Length: 297 characters Favorited by: 0 member |