Desire Path (2)

There is a rusted metal gate
leading to a yawning valley,
mouth wide with blue mist 
against a yellow sun.

The view is not there for me,
not there to pursue,
some conquest or checkbox landmark.

If I move too close I’d loose
the radiance that comes with 
It’s wide open space,
It’s aloofness,
It’s stillness.

I wish to be more like my companions:
observers not dictators.

I see the smoke of the steam train,
with the pooling hills of dusk.
I watch the birds flock, 
disperse and reunite.

This is the moment I desire.
And yet so many days
I run.

There is nothing harder,
Than telling yourself to stop.
I take it in.
I feel it all.