I'm digging in the dirt today. Soil. And a little swirl of wind walks by. Up the path of straw and through some leaves by the compost pile. That reminds me somehow of that little snake I photographed earlier. How he smiled in the spring sun: on last years dead dry grass. I miss that sun now and the snake too, now that the night hides them like the grass when the snake slid off into it.
Now it all has to mean something; and can again, since we've given up on that it must. The sweat drops fell from my face after what seems like a long perspiration free winter. There was a time when they tended towards a globe as they fell. Like raindrops to the soil. If anyone asks you why, just smile sweetly and close your mouth against the secret. To bluff is what we can offer. But it's a real bluff, eh?
2 comments:
Oh, when can't life find balance? --a little perspiration and some lack of it! Why do winters and summers, wealth and poverty tear us into weakness or weakness?
Weakness and weakness. Two halves that it took to see what was inside the world. After it got split it never was as lively; like before. But who could crush the World and put its pieces into boxes their own purposes. It is only that we are too concerned with our work to see that balance is what life is.
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