Archive
09/20/11 - (5)
Gateway
Now, it's later than five. This rainy day has spent itself dry, And I'm treading on the soggy, soft, duff-covered sand Lining a path through the woods cocooning the boys' camp.
Mosses are the brightest lime and kelly greens I've ever seen. Silver-gray-blue splotches of lichen cling to tree trunks. Toadstools and puffballs dot the ground around my shoes.
The seething aromas of these woods breathe me in, deeply. My eyes and nose detect summer's quietus, in fall's birth. I'm following the trail that autumn opens as I go,
Bringing with me a layman's awe of nature's nurturing resolve To prepare its beings for imminent winter, Be they trees, shrubs, flowers, insects, birds, squirrels . . . me.
After two hours of hiking, my legs are willow limbs. Delicious weariness sates my muscles and tendons, Sends serenity through my bloodstream, to my mind's limits.
Standing on Lorber Point, gazing into the descending sun, I see, between it and me, the enormity of a hazy-gray rainstorm Spreading, miles and miles away, across the glazed horizon.
Suddenly, twilight's blazing rays are tangled up, in a torrent, And the gold-hued swath they cast across the lake, toward me, Gives way to shimmering, continuously alternating layers of color —
Garish yellows, screaming pinks, insane violets, raging oranges, Their intensity so preposterous, so outrageous, so impossible, That this dusk must be the gateway to a new or ancient universe.
09/20/11 - (5)
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