โThe wild-often dismissed as savage and chaotic by "civilized" thinkers, is actually impartially, relentlessly, and beautifully formal and free. Its expression-the richness of plant and animal life on the globe including us, the rainstorms, windstorms, and calm spring mornings-is the real world, to which we belong.โ
โ Gary Snyder, The Practice of the Wild:
FIELD NOTES #40
A spider weaves its web in the arms of a lawn chair.
It looks for prey and ignores the sunlight caught between the silk.
An old pine bends over a plot of brown grass.
Confused, it wonders why nothing seems to grow.
Across the yard I lock eyes with a saintโs plaster gaze:
maybe he can teach me what it means to be alive.
๐๐๐
Gnats dance in the summer heat.
Blades of grass rise to meet the sun.
Hiding beneath my covers
I ignore your gentle pull:
save the early bird for better birds
I was raise to hide from morning.
๐๐๐
10,000 years pass by.
Raindrops dance along your forehead.
I try to remind myself that life happens
one wound at a time.
We stop by the store to pick up fresh roses.
You say you hate the color red.
Of all the things I shouldโve said
none now come to mindโ
riding off for war,
the soldier forgets the taste of home.