As the pond said
To the lad after
He remarked of its
Beauty I mirror only
What I myself see
As the pond said
To the lad after
He remarked of its
Beauty I mirror only
What I myself see
As I have gotten older
I’ve become more aware
Of the little things
Having been bombarded by
The grand things of
Life I have sought
Refuge in the quiet
Things raindrops on eaves
The scratching of fall
Leaves and ant hills
That seem to erupt
Overnight through sidewalk cracks
The slower things like
Inch by delicate inch
Of freshly fallen snow
That crawls against windows
And plump caterpillars that
Wind and weave munching
Polka dots in green
On their way to
Emerging butterfly and oh
Yes love as called
Accepting it rather than
Seeking it there’s comfort
In the little slow
Things that simply show
Up for no other
Reason than being themselves
And I taking notice
You can’t cage a
Bird that wishes to
Fly first you’ll break
Its heart then you’ll
Crush its spirit and
Finally it’ll stop singing
Every time that door
Opens it’ll try to
Flee until at last
It doesn’t becoming far
Less than what it
Was to both you
And mostly to it
There are two types
Of love roads one
Is flat and straight
And long disappearing somewhere
Off yonder way out
There that even squinting
And shading ones eyes
You can’t tell just
How far forever is
The other is winding
And weaving and challenging
One that requires concentration
And stamina and expertise
One that is full
Of careening cliffs and
Tight curves and acceleration
And hard braking and
Heart breaking sudden stops
But in hindsight if
You were to stretch
Out the curvy one
And lay it alongside
The straight one you’d
See that both cover
The exact same distance
It all depends on
You which one that
You’d prefer to travel
Sometimes one sometimes both
It’s never the destination
It’s always getting there
Now that I think
About it the past
And the future only
Ever occurs in our
Minds but the present
The present only ever
Occurs in our hearts