The Walk- a-poem
By Tony DeLorger © 2013
Each step the crunch of autumn leaves beneath my feet,
the filtered light through mottled leaves spattered light paint, surround,
and I, gliding over a well worn path, imbibe the morning air,
each moment engraving my alert senses, to remember perfect moments.
In silence I draw out life's beauty, suck the marrow dry,
for if not these moments are lost forever, sentenced to the mundane,
and I wish not to lose a single moment to my complacency,
not a breathe untamed by cognizance.
Water trickles over a stone bed, parting with reverence,
stones like heads risen to witness the day,
the bubbling water opening and closing like shimmering wounds healing,
and I see their acceptance without consideration, in awe.
Nature is an open book, forever yielding to itself, its own being,
in a silent and serene acknowledgement of interdependence,
and I, in ignorance, separate myself by choice,
believing that thought and reason somehow elevates my kind.
Humility overwhelms me, crawls deep under my skin to temper my delusion,
and I, know in my heart that I am broken in nature,
a mind somehow filled with delusion and fear, self-created,
and here before me, with not an inkling of intent, perfection.
The silence of a walk is therapeutic, introspective,
and this time I need to balance all that swings to extremes,
all that finds tangent paths to follow, away from reality,
and in that it stills my heart, restores and nourishes a mind that seeks peace.
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