The Further You Go

by Andrew Colliver


Original Language English

Mercy, there have been revelations.
Grace, there has been realisation. Still, you must
travel the path of time and circumstance.

The further you go, the more it comes back to paying attention.
The rough skin of the tallowwood, the trade routes of lorikeets, a sky lifting
behind afternoon clouds. Staying close to the texture of things.

People can go before you and talk all they want,
but only one thing makes sense: the way the world enters
and finds its voice in you: the place you are free.


<<Previous Poem | More Poems by Andrew Colliver | Next Poem >>


View All Poems by Andrew Colliver

Commentary by Ivan M. Granger

Mercy, there have been revelations.
Grace, there has been realisation. Still, you must
travel the path of time and circumstance.


Those opening lines say something so important, that just isn't said often enough: Even with that sweet touch of mercy and grace, "Still, you must travel the path of time and circumstance."

I remember bewilderment that, after being enrapt by such full, spacious silence, that there were still bills to be paid, dishes to be done. I think we so romanticize states of opening that we imagine all work and responsibility will step aside for us. Yet the world goes on and, if we're not living in a forest or a cave, we must still answer its demands.

So then we start asking ourselves just what this revelation or realization actually means.

The further you go, the more it comes back to paying attention.

This poem suggests that our opening becomes a new practice. We discover a new sense of self with which encounters the world more fully, with more fully engaged awareness, allowing something big to express itself through us in the world.

Love those final lines:

People can go before you and talk all they want,
but only one thing makes sense: the way the world enters
and finds its voice in you: the place you are free.








The Further You Go