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Out Walking – Among Nature And Poetry

Traveling down my usual path
I came to the end of the road.
Nothing reminiscent of Frost’s two paths.
No glorious crossroads.
Nothing
but an old tree stump,
stuck
where blooming life once stood.
Stuck as well, I stood still as the stump,
feeling its paralysis in silent communion.

I could turn and go back;
head for the comforts of home.
Or go around it, I suppose, and forge
on straight ahead. Today, though, I
chose to stop and rest on the stump.

Though the wooden widow made quite a
pleasant chair, I suspect the trade unfair,
as I must have paled
in comparison to its earlier foliage.

From my new vantage point,
as my pulse slowed to calm, I began
to notice Earth’s movements around me.
Leaves twitched and giggled in the wind.
Squirrels wrestled nearby
unconcerned with my presence.
Clouds more like commas
slid toward tomorrow.

I have no idea how long I stayed there,
or what brought me back to the trail,
but I’d venture to say that if I had
an eternity to rest in that place, it
would not have been time wasted.

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Comments (5)

Lori, this is how I've felt - are you in my head? Observation, revelation, more - I love this poem. You're the real deal.
I think we all desire to calmly and pleasantly enter eternity.
a rare moment to absent the soul from torture which churns on and on at every street corner and drift into drifting even though seated on ancient wood once filled with water sun pure living and THAT has entered and once that has happened every moment is totally the moment free from time yet bound in time no contradiction only the blessing a fine poem
Lori your expression is beautiful.....I feel I have been to his very spot! It's moments like these, when time looses time..and we are captured in all that is glorious interconnectedness....we are plugged in....Robert Frost knew...to take the road less travelled by, often brings us to richer, more wonderous experiences. You have portrayed this very essence, right here in this poem! It's Lovely~
What is this life if full of care, We have no time to stand and stare? - or in your case sit. Nice contemplative poem. I love the line 'Clouds more like commas slid toward tomorrow'