Thursday, March 13


i saw the field of wildflowers and
images of Mary Oliver
played through my mind,
urging me to venture off
the well trodden path

that's how i found myself
fighting through a never ending sea
of over grown weeds and
pushing back the thorns
of over romanticized wild flowers,
kicking up crickets and
other unidentified flying objects
with each labored step

until suddenly, it was here,

this spot, a small retreat
from the suffocating wilderness,
a simple oasis of old bricks and rock

i sat and crossed my legs,
breathed in the heat,
pushed back the humidity,
shut my eyes and let time float away

there is something crawling on my foot

i'll open my eyes,
take in all the glorious beauty of nature,
taste the mountain breeze as i
inhaled the fresh clean air and
watch the vibrant red and yellow flowers
dance to the gentle song of the wind

or is that the rustling of a snake?

i don't think i'm becoming
more enlightened, i'm just numb
to the pain of the rocks i've sat on,
the grass spurs i've gathered,
the ants i have feed.

i just need to stand up and move on


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