Tree at my window, window tree,
My sash is lowered when night comes on;
But let there never be curtain drawn
Between you and me.
Vague dream head lifted out of the ground,
And thing next most diffuse to cloud,
Not all your light tongues talking aloud
Could be profound.
But tree, I have seen you taken and tossed,
And if you have seen me when I slept,
You have seen me when I was taken and swept
And all but lost.
That day she put our heads together,
Fate had her imagination about her,
Your head so much concerned with outer,
Mine with inner, weather.
Drifting snow has me lost in thought
Meandering in the knee-high clouds that are on the ground.
Stray collies wander as if they know more than just joy.
There need be no aim.
There need to be no trail blazed.
Purity can be a maze.
Purity can amaze.
Running in and out and about the tundra with no task at hand.
The morning sun bears no walls.
Its violet rays showing no loyalty to rhyme or reason.
I could only hope to be so bold…
not caring one way or another how the seasons unfold.
To glow or not with nothing to lose.
The cotton ball is gritty, as if seeking someone’s demise.
Open fields, though endearing, glare at me with only…true lies.
Sign, sign…everywhere a…sign.
Clearly my salvation is where it is meant to be.
And, it is only mine.
So fortunate am I? I am so fortunate that I forget. Lucky enough to live in mostly wilderness. Lucky enough to forget each and every walk I take (which is 355 days a year) can have either little significance…or, all the importance in the world.
Stop…Ruth, breathe in through the nose…breathe out through the mouth. Enjoy one moment. One single, minute, slice of slowing down. Look up, look down, look within!
Look at every piece of damaged goods, or as I like to say, damaged beauty. It will offer new perspective on all ills and pains, I have.
Listen…to all that is not said! Listen with mouth shut and arms wide open!
It is a falsehood to believe we will ever be here, in this spot, again!