Pursuit is chasing after, without loving to run –
not enjoying the wind whipping through your hair,
almost forgetting the purpose the race has begun –
just looking for something, you know not where.
Seeking is visiting a thing where it lives –
not wandering a hidden, overgrown mew,
almost losing your way as the underbrush gives –
just remembering something you already knew.
There is no joy in pursuing, unless your quarry
truly wants you to catch it, and gives you the chance –
and then, in a meaningless bother and flurry,
you imagine yourself and it, partners in dance.
But with seeking, you approach with an open heart,
bearing gifts for the host of the place;
knowing not what you will leave with when you part,
only sensing the truth with an honest face.
22 JUL 2003
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