Posts Tagged ‘path’

One in the Snow




dancing with the shovel

for an hour on the drive,

everywhere we go, a path

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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


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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,


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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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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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Growing Orbits




Dead end. That is what the sign said.

Funny how long I’ve believed I could only walk on the road.

It was the deer who showed me how to leap the fence,

how to circle the sign in irregular orbits.

There was no end to the number of paths I might choose.

I was clumsy at first, unversed in this new navigation—

the earth so soft I easily lost my balance.

It was the breath that taught me to pour my weight

first into one foot, then into the other.

My soles relearned how to meet the ground.

It was the clouds that showed me how to let myself

be orchestrated by wind, spiraling like a bird,

as if stirred by some great hand.

Ever since I began circling, I’ve come to see that dead ends

as invitations.

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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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Out of Obstacles



Walls will only crush you when they fall.

—Ray La Montagne, “Be Here Now”



So when

a wall forms

between us



reuse each

brick as cobblestone


we’ll build

our own path

as we go.


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No Strings

Here, we might say, here is where

a road should be. But road there is none.

Isn’t that like us, thinking we know

the world better than the world itself.

There isn’t a road. That is clear.

And we want one. That’s clear, too.

And we don’t like the fact

there is no visible road.

Whether our intention is to run away

or to move closer to,

well, that changes, doesn’t it.

And isn’t it just like us to think

we need a road. Instead,

there is this change of light,

this scent of rain. There is

nothing we might call a path,

but there is this urge

to begin to move, this desire

that causes the legs to lift,

again and again and again,

less as if we are marionettes,

more as if there is some inner drive

more real than even the real world,

and it helps us step one more step,

one more step toward what we do not know.

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