{"id":81056,"date":"2016-10-24T12:00:57","date_gmt":"2016-10-24T11:00:57","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/?p=81056"},"modified":"2016-10-18T11:54:23","modified_gmt":"2016-10-18T10:54:23","slug":"land-without-mirrors","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/2016\/10\/land-without-mirrors\/","title":{"rendered":"Land without Mirrors"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><a href=\"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/10\/emanuel-garcia.jpg\" ><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignleft size-thumbnail wp-image-81513\" src=\"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/10\/emanuel-garcia-150x150.jpg\" alt=\"emanuel-garcia\" width=\"150\" height=\"150\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>At some point, hard to remember<br \/>\nUnder the sway of the stars,<br \/>\nAlong the pathless plains<br \/>\nBrimming towards I knew not what,<br \/>\nI had decided I was more a wanderer,<br \/>\nAnd that my travels counted<br \/>\nOn a destination never to be reached,<br \/>\nPerhaps that blacker line in the distance<br \/>\nWhere my earth pressed up<br \/>\nAgainst the weight of the airs<\/p>\n<p>From the hollow of a resting place<br \/>\nI greeted them all, my visitors,<br \/>\nThey stayed, my guests,<br \/>\nOnly so long, I envied them,<br \/>\nMiscreants and troubadours,<br \/>\nPlayers, prostitutes, protectors,<br \/>\nThey shared my game, told me things,<br \/>\nAlways a whisper, always sly,<br \/>\nTheir stories made the sun less harsh,<br \/>\nDusk not so menacing<\/p>\n<p>Night was my home<br \/>\nAnd I was quick to move,<br \/>\nTo pass, better to judge my step<br \/>\nAnd let the canopy sink into song,<br \/>\nWhether I thought of you<br \/>\nOr someone else, through me<\/p>\n<p>The hills were only visible by clue,<br \/>\nBy a ghostly whorl of cloud in the distance<br \/>\nGathering above, beyond<\/p>\n<p>My fires blazed as I picked up speed,<br \/>\nIt didn&#8217;t matter where I went,<br \/>\nIn this land without mirrors<br \/>\n________________________________________________<\/p>\n<p><em>Dr. Garcia is an American poet, novelist and physician who now resides in New Zealand. He may be contacted at <\/em><a href=\"mailto:emanuelegarcia@gmail.com\"><em>emanuelegarcia@gmail.com<\/em><\/a><em>.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>At some point, hard to remember<br \/>\nUnder the sway of the stars,<br \/>\nAlong the pathless plains<br \/>\nBrimming towards I knew not what,<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[182],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-81056","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry-format"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/81056","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=81056"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/81056\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=81056"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=81056"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=81056"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}