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05/23/10 - (2)
Unfinished Ode
I realize how precious are the silence and solitude That invited me to bathe in their gentle, baptizing gaze, Wade into their harmonious waters, Partake of their oneness with the outdoors, Which life in northern Wisconsin provides.
And to think, imagine, that, just this 6:30 a.m., I was watching nature compose an ode — A mallard mothering her flock of eight ducklings Dabbling, tipping in the warm waters below my cabin — And that now I can only read it in my visions.
Oh, if I could surface, again, In nurturing Lake Nebagamon, at water's edge, Climb back into my simple cabin's bed, Where I might sleep and awaken, Reciting matins to the sun, vespers to the moon,
Prayers to the spruces, birches, firs, and pines, The moss and lichen, the spiders, chipmunks, and bears, The duff, ferns, lilacs, and crabapple petals, The quietude and tranquillity of the woods... If only nature could read, to me, her closure to that ode.
05/23/10 - (2)
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