Everything
comes around
so often
I am
no longer sure
it matters
where
when
or what
we grab
and
hang on to.
Stacking firewood
early in the morning
I was nearly
driven crazy
by the eight
Canadian geese
walking
flying
landing
repeatedly
honking
at the top
of their voices
too
irrepressibly happy
by the change
in weather.
I
wanted them
to take their celebration
elsewhere
and
leave me in peace
with
the ancient manuscript
I found
beneath the wood pile
in a language
I should not
have understood
but do
and am now
looking forward
to what I believe
will be
a very good read.
2 comments:
What does this mean? What did you find in the woodpile?
Dear Katie,
A woodpile is a source of fuel - energy, heat, warmth. A very routine kind of physical labor goes into stacking a cord of wood. There isn't anything remarkable about this necessary effort. It is the body in motion doing the kind of every day things that we all do in our various settings. If we can pay attention, not just to the dramatic in our lives, but to the every day business of living, we begin to get some inkling of what it means to be alive, to be human, to be us. This understanding can't come all at once because we are an unfolding story, even though our discovery feels as if it has always been true, like an ancient manuscript. Because it's a tale of discovery, part of us feels as if what is being revealed to us is written in a language we don't know. In paying attention, however, in opening the book of revelations, out of curiosity, and attempting to read what is there, we not only discover that we do understand, but that our story makes a very good read, full of energy, heat and warmth.
Thank you for asking the question. I hope my response is adequate.
Byron
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