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Posts Tagged ‘path’

 

for Susan

 

 

Walking the world of dry leaves

and rickety bridges,

there as in old letters,

we marvel at the things

we once knew that we have

just recently discovered—

How new it all is again.

How we orbit the same sun

every day and still

can be astonished

by the way things

shine.

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Bliss in Fifteen Minutes

 

 

 

Lost in the woods

I tell myself it is not so bad

to be lost—

just look at the curve

of that red rock wall,

just listen to that wind,

how it finds everything.

How lost can I be?

The scent of juniper

finds me again, again,

again.

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All This Time

 

 

 

calling it a journey

when we have never

stopped arriving

 

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Eventually you decide the scratches are worth it

and you wade through the vines into the thicket

where the berries still hang red and ripe and profuse.

You leave a suggestion of a path behind you.

Tomorrow it will be invisible, like so many paths

you’ve made. The bushes, like convictions, will reclaim

their wildness. But for now, there is this sweetness

to follow, this hunger, this pleasure in finding a way,

this drive to harvest all that the day has to offer.

 

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Tonight the path

is tired of being

a path, would rather

be a leaf. Enough

of trodding. Enough

of this one foot

in front of the other.

Rather to unfurl

and serve and let go

and get lost. Really,

how hard could it be?

Something about

“path” suggests

certainty. The path

feels like a fraud.

It’s exhausted

with arrivals. It wants

to fall off. It wants

to cartwheel across the field

like last year’s leaves

in spring wind.

It wants to have

no idea at all

where it is going.

 

 

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Directions

It is not that the path
has disappeared. It is only
that, stunned with grief
and kicked by fear,
we sometimes lose our will
to put one foot
in front of the other.
But we are not lost.
Already in the dark
we have found each other.
What astonishes is
that there are so many of us,
and already
we are building bridges
made of light.
The world shakes,
we stumble
and we help each other rise,
and now it is time
for us again to put one foot in front of the other—
not to escape what frightens us
but to walk unflinchingly
toward the messy center of things.
The path we choose now
is not one we’ve walked or even seen before,
the path is one that appears
beneath our feet
with each step,
and we persist,
travelers in the frozen dark
who begin to see the light as it shapes the horizon
and know, though it’s cold,
that the change we dream of
has already begun to arrive.

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Destination

 

 

 

Leaping off the train

not sure where I’m going

but certain no tracks

will get me there.

In the field

every step a new step.

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