Out of life
Was to carve out
Some small domain
In this wild expanse
I could identify
As me
Until
I discovered non-being
And realized
Being
Was not
All it was cracked up
To be
Until
I discovered non-being
And realized
Being
Was not
All it was cracked up
To be
Fir and cedar, conifers
And alder with its lighter leaf
Like steps of cones
All feathery
But my lens
Sees everything
Grand patterns lost
In details keen
The words come
The way lichen
Came to the rock
They come to me
Both words and lichen
So their beauty can be known
Turned to it
Faced head on
Arms out wide
As if wings
Unfettered by Earth
I stop and look back
Along the path I’ve travelled
Not to see where I’ve been
Not to linger on what I’ve done
Not to consider the path I’ve followed
I want to see
What fell out of my peripheral vision
What cannot be seen moving forward
Though I may have to fly
Rather than drive
I may have to walk
Rather than bicycle
I roll through
On two wheels
Climbing up
Flowing down
Cornering
And gliding
In flight
Amongst
The verdant
Clouds
I wonder why I live in the city
With its noise
Both visual and aural
With its go-go-go
And its stresses
Its meanness
And petty heartbreaks
I wonder this
Whenever I enter the idyllic
A place of peace
Where time is kept
By the movement of the sun
The seasons
Where change is driven
By the needs of nature
Rather than the pace
Of technology
Of politics
Of corporate commerce