WALKING LONG, THIS PATH
When I look out to the horizon, I can see that there is a ladder, it’s the sequence of step, on step, on step: wrung rung — but while it’s flat on the earth, I’m dreaming that it’s going skyward.
Every rung, each stride, takes one past the plane of present, in the next plateau, a plain — crosses higher, farther out, beyond where we just were.
Looking out, the drawn perspective of the ladder, in the imagining of that sequencing, that imagination of one plane turns to another, and the sky becomes earth, the firm becomes vapor, the clouds transform to wind drawn hillocks.
And out there, the dream of the land ladders — going onwards, upwards — there we are. Just there — there’s another ladder, just beginning: the edge of the mist.
Here I am.
And there you go — up, across, the ladders of the land, imagined.
t | the island | the western shore, facing
STUDYING MIND, SYMBOLIC DESIGN AND METAPHORS