Words structured make a map for me
Sentences enable me to see.
But there are maps of other kinds
And different maps suit different minds.
The artist with her skilled brushstrokes,
Her unique sense of the world evokes.
This goes straight to the heart and tells
Of feelings’ deep, unfathomed wells.
The sweet, plain singing of the spheres
Moves those who hear to happy tears.
Yet notes are written on just five lines
From these flow all music’s rhythms
There are so many different worlds,
Which all these maps to us unfurl.
The Art of Travel is to guess
Which Map will suit which World the best.