Archway and path

Dry, hard oak leaves
in a patch of ground
in the sun
stirred by wind puffs
in short grass
curled on ends
nodding to moss
nestled in leaves.

A picture framed in my mind:
the grand oak
and moss floating in a breeze.
A patch of cleared ground.
A bench beneath the oak.
It’s ancient, massive,
weathered trunk
anchored in the ground
of eternity.
To one side, a trail —
a straight line into woods.
I, the one who is
contemplating,
meditating
on the sun’s shadows
and patches of bright,
afternoon light,

I shall wait to enter
and walk the path.

It is enough to know
that my surroundings
let me enter
that other place, that world
beyond where I sit
in half-dreaming reverie.
Aware.
Still.

I marvel at the way
the sun shines
and lights up these woods.
In winter.
They converge
at this point in time,
here where moments pass
as wakefulness.
That is all there is now.

How I love the shadows.
They move with the sun.
And the path–
it continues to beckon,
inviting me
through the portal
of this great live oak
whose branches and limbs,
body and soul, are,
I think,

watching,
calling,
speaking,
through the wind.
I am the one
who is voiceless.

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I miss having the time to just be outside. ..

i love the shadows too. Beautiful, as usual.

This is so beautiful. I am VERY grateful, however, that you are not voiceless, but that you share these moments with your readers in this thoughtful, thought-provoking way. Light and shadows…time which moves so slowly for the oak and so quickly for the day, evidenced by moving shadows. Old voices, moss and dried leaves…..wow.

March 1, 2002

This is beautiful Oswego!!! Such old trees fascinate me endless. To me especially the oak is a tree that tells me about strenght, hope and courage. An oak gives me always this irresistsible tendency to talk to him, touch his trunk and sit there close for a moment. It’s as if this tree is wise and understands everything! It’s a tree that warms my heart and uplifts my spirit so often!

March 2, 2002

As you know, my friend, in a city filled with magnificent oak trees, I also love the wonderful old giants and their attire of Spanish moss! This poem is superb and your love of nature is so clearly evident! Beautiful writing as always. Loved the part about the wind speaking, Oswego!

Shi
March 2, 2002

As always, you conjurer up with your words such vivid images.

Just lovely. Thank you for sharing.

Nice read, it inspired me to try and create something, so sticking to what I know, I skipped the poetry.

I think it was the line… A picture framed in my mind…

came back here after seeing what NSR attributed to you… and am not surprised that this poem was the springboard of more beauty. I am glad i came to read it again.

March 3, 2002

Re-reading here…so beautiful, I like so much the last part!! Take care!

Very nice! I came here thru the link on nsrider’s diary.

I want this painting in my living room, but in my heart is better! Thank you for this wonderful picture painted with words. I want to sit on that bench and meditate. Love,

March 4, 2002

your poetry always has this quality of someone standing here talking to me 🙂 ryn: yeah i think you did send me yellowtimes.org. i’m thinking now that the link olu sent me was in fact what i sent him from you. sorry for the miscredit 🙁 🙂

Good Morning, my friend. Thank you for a beautiful image 🙂

March 5, 2002

ryn: not only do I type much faster than i write, i can’t concentrate on writing when my hand gets cramped, so a computer is neccessary for me. not to mention i hate rewriting something to revise it.

March 6, 2002

But you aren’t voiceless, are you? You voiced quite effectively–I like the way this poem catches the great stillness and ability to wait that I sense in you…a strength for certain.