You see, here, along the northeast…
a mile is forever on a country lane
In the arm’s of nature, Mother’s face, prolongs my existence.
Her silhouette disheveled, fetal and beyond my wandering.
I felt that one step forward and one step back only released my defects.
This lonely, disparaged pond and her trail praises those that are rampant, quiet and egotistically…frail.
So, I come back down (always) a downy lane.
Bluster and sustain-ably sane.
Still a history still….not so plain.
Clover still grows during this…the first hard frost.
I have always envied this walk…to clear the air.
Drudgery and all its beauty strewn about in wild fanfare.
The perpetual futility of earth’s aching limbs.
A healthy canvas for the unknowing eye, is all one will see.
Progress and perfection…languishing in antiquity.
I do not know where to go to stay strong.
I understood where I always needed to believe.
To the ravished forest, brutal and gentle, dark and light.
Can I ever release this flight?
Quail twinkling upon slightly frozen blades of grass.
Milk weed disposing of fluff, hard and fast.
I do not know where to go to stay steady.
I understood, however, the dug earth, the rampant maple leaf, the need to see and see…
Would deliver me.
The fight remains in the hand tossed rubble and rubbish.
Hope…in the ache that wakes.
Not paradise up close and focus tight.
But by innate tapestry under the sun’s light.
No treading a path beyond fine.
The superfluous for the mind.