PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant… March 11, 2015

Jonathots Daily Blog


pohymn March 11


A parcel of land

Unknown to me

Yet strangely familiar

Overgrown with nature

Unfriendly to my eyes

I walk twenty paces

Through grass yellowed

By the treading of trodders

A stifling heat

A burst of sweat

Exhilarating exhaustion

A bend to the left

A field of clover

Cooling, morning dew

I linger. longingly

“Push on, pilgrim!”

A clearing in the distance

Legs I do not possess

Moving where I need go

The cliff appears

A halting of progress

What lies beyond?

What dangers beneath?

Climbing down the rocks

Slip, gain footing

Sliding again

A plateau provided

A resting place

Can’t stay long

Too small for permanence

Too much more to see

Reaching, pulling, breathless

Up, down, look around

No particular direction

Pausing to gain air

Peering for beauty

Wondering where I am

Curious who I am

Oblivious to why

A pool of water

Still, running deep?

Motionless, poisonous?

What do I really know?

My mind stores without understanding.

I am a collage of misinformation

No real possession of thought

Is this really happening?

Has it been done before?

So present, yet vacant of memory

Is it the whim of my wishes

Or the wish of all whims?

I grow weary of movement

Journey with no compass

Turn and head back!

Which way?

I forget

So do I travel in oblivion?

Or stop and settle bearings?

Suddenly, a deer by my side

He accepts me as friend

He is so confident

My deer, I do not belong

The deer does not care

I am alone, placed by myself

No comfort in my choice

So I follow the deer

After many steps

Back at the clover

He likes it

So do I

But I am not a deer

Born to languish in clover

I stumble away

This is neither my parcel

Nor my portion

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