Archive
09/20/11 - (3)
Remote
Who am I, hiding in this tiny, remote cabin, On this even remoter lake, by this remotest of villages, In these North Woods climes few have even noticed? Who goes there? Who asks? And why should you care? After all, this is my lifetime, to do with as I choose.
I choose reclusiveness, privacy, untrammeled quiet, Choose to jettison wrist watch, cell phone, newspaper, TV, Choose to revel in being myself, by myself, Choose to remain naked, asleep and awake, indoors, So that freedom might choose me, know me intimately.
Ultimately, I choose me, unadulterated me, The part of my heart, spirit, that eschews society's din, Chooses listening to water splashing shores, To loons, crows, red-winged blackbirds serenading the air, Chooses to come and go with the seasons of my remote soul.
09/20/11 - (3)
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