Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Monday, July 11, 2011
Saturday, July 9, 2011
The Fields Are Frozen Now
The fields are frozen now.
The seed cannot be sown.
I walk for miles along this barren, snowy plain to see no life:
No squirrels digging up nuts
No groundhogs popping up from their burrows
No wolves or wildcats slyly hunting game
No black birds flinging themselves against a blasted sky.
All is white.
All is silent.
All is profound.
Does the ground wait for spring?
Wait for the softening sun's rays to blazeon comfort and care through the cold hardness?
I think not!
The ground is because it is, not because it thinks or hopes its being into is.
Like me now.
I am and cannot think my being into is or hope myself into becoming.
It happens.
We cannot wait for Spring, the ground and I.
Spring must wait for us, to recover ourselves.
We cannot count lonely days toward resurrection,
Just labor on to fields of cold.
The seed cannot be sown.
I walk for miles along this barren, snowy plain to see no life:
No squirrels digging up nuts
No groundhogs popping up from their burrows
No wolves or wildcats slyly hunting game
No black birds flinging themselves against a blasted sky.
All is white.
All is silent.
All is profound.
Does the ground wait for spring?
Wait for the softening sun's rays to blazeon comfort and care through the cold hardness?
I think not!
The ground is because it is, not because it thinks or hopes its being into is.
Like me now.
I am and cannot think my being into is or hope myself into becoming.
It happens.
We cannot wait for Spring, the ground and I.
Spring must wait for us, to recover ourselves.
We cannot count lonely days toward resurrection,
Just labor on to fields of cold.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Monday, July 4, 2011
Friday, July 1, 2011
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