THERE IS ALWAYS A FAR HORIZON

          In 1966 I made my first overland trip to India. It followed earlier, much shorter trips to Morocco and Egypt and I put them all together in my first travel book. It was never published but now I am going to indulge myself by posting the chapters each month on my blog. I was in a poetic mood much of the time so the books begins with a poetic foreword.

THERE IS ALWAYS A FAR HORIZON

There is always a far horizon,

A city yet to be seen,

Always a distant landmark,

A pasture of promised green.

Eternal the soft voice calling,

Come here! Go there! Move on!

Endless the lost soul searching,

For what it does not know.

Endless the lost soul searching,

For what it cannot tell.

Perhaps it's love, or faith or hope,

Perhaps it's death or hell.

And always the call is urging,

Insistent, sweet, sublime,

Perhaps the answer is waiting,

Beyond the coming mile.

Just round the approaching corner,

Or over the barrier hill,

Perhaps the answer is waiting,

The quest at last fulfilled.

But no, the road is empty,

Another hill bars the way.

The secret of life is elusive,

It dances afar and astray.

And there is always a far horizon,

And a city yet to be seen,

Always a distant landmark,

And a pasture of promised green.