Poet’s Dilemma
Where do the words come from?
Listening to the world?
Reading a book?
Walking in a forest?
Praying?
Suffering?
A thought forms in my mind.
An image tries to find the light.
My heart aches as all I hear
is the beating of a heart in the night.
Consider –
the weight of a leaf
the burden it must carry
the work of a leaf
Leaf hanging from the branch
cooling, feeding, breathing.
Beauty as it rises to the sun
greeting bird and breeze.
Spring bud
hope of world
soon fades and releases itself
from the burdens of the tree.
Giving itself to the wind
and ground.
In death it carpets the forest and begins the work
of building soil
and holding water.
Eternal leaf, ever reborn
ever dying
ever creating
ever on the wind.
Such is the burden of a leaf.
Till next week,
Andrew
I didn’t say it was your fault, I said I was blaming you.
More wisdom next week,
Andrew
My dear old daddy use to say (and he liked being called my ‘dear old daddy’):
It’s not the miles you walk – it’s the rock in your shoe…
