Walk the rails under a high blue sky. Find the sag in the leaning fence, and step--carefully--over rusted wire. Follow a peninsula of blond grasses through a lake of loam, and come, at last, to the timber's edge where gray branches trace the sky and rose hips curl near purple canes.
Friday, August 14, 2015
Adventures of a Speck
I am learning to walk
with air between my fingers,
knuckles relaxed, accepting
that I will never move the earth,
but ride it, spinning, through
distance longer than thought.
Thirty-one times I have whirled
all the way around the sun.
Elena, you've captured the marvelous serenity that comes from "unclenching" the heart ... Yes, isn't it bizarre that we "specks" sometimes imagine it is incumbent upon us to move the earth? And the lessons of accepting limitations and of accepting realities that can't immediately (or ever!) be changed -- these are lessons that I'm still trying to learn, with 15 more trips around the sun than you've made! :-)
Oh, delightful!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Beth! I'm glad you liked it :)
DeleteElena, you've captured the marvelous serenity that comes from "unclenching" the heart ... Yes, isn't it bizarre that we "specks" sometimes imagine it is incumbent upon us to move the earth? And the lessons of accepting limitations and of accepting realities that can't immediately (or ever!) be changed -- these are lessons that I'm still trying to learn, with 15 more trips around the sun than you've made! :-)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Thomas! I expect it's a life-long learning process for all of us.
Delete