I travelled the old road every day, I took my fruits to the market, <br />my cattle to the meadows, I ferried my boat across the stream and <br />all the ways were well known to me. <br />One morning my basket was heavy with wares. Men were busy in <br />the fields, the pastures crowded with cattle; the breast of earth <br />heaved with the mirth of ripening rice. <br />Suddenly there was a tremor in the air, and the sky seemed to <br />kiss me on my forehead. My mind started up like the morning out of <br />mist. <br />I forgot to follow the track. I stepped a few paces from the <br />path, and my familiar world appeared strange to me, like a flower <br />I had only known in bud. <br />My everyday wisdom was ashamed. I went astray in the fairyland <br />of things. It was the best luck of my life that I lost my path that <br />morning, and found my eternal childhood.<br /><br />Sir Rabindranath Tagore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lover-s-gifts-xlviii-i-travelled-the-old-road-2/
