APPARENT MISCHIEF
At one time - say in the cold frost
of a Winter's morning - I had no
inclination to do a thing. I stood back,
under a shield of ice, and watched the
fir trees shudder, the bare limbs of the
oaks take their coatings of ice, and the
branching elms, creaking, strain against
the cold. I stayed in one place until
I was too cold myself to move. I wished,
just then, to feel what a tree feels :
bare and barren, cold and glazed.
It wouldn't have been that difficult -
after all, my heart itself was already
wishing for a Spring and a Sun.
Something spectacular to brush off
this wearisome world. The old man's
shovel was propped against the ice-glazed
barn. Frozen drips, in turn, had covered the
shovel solid. Everything was under something :
cold, pain, ice, longing. The entire natural world,
I figured, was never complete without its own
incompleteness being present as well.
At one time - say in the cold frost
of a Winter's morning - I had no
inclination to do a thing. I stood back,
under a shield of ice, and watched the
fir trees shudder, the bare limbs of the
oaks take their coatings of ice, and the
branching elms, creaking, strain against
the cold. I stayed in one place until
I was too cold myself to move. I wished,
just then, to feel what a tree feels :
bare and barren, cold and glazed.
It wouldn't have been that difficult -
after all, my heart itself was already
wishing for a Spring and a Sun.
Something spectacular to brush off
this wearisome world. The old man's
shovel was propped against the ice-glazed
barn. Frozen drips, in turn, had covered the
shovel solid. Everything was under something :
cold, pain, ice, longing. The entire natural world,
I figured, was never complete without its own
incompleteness being present as well.
No comments:
Post a Comment