Someplace Nice

teetering from heel to ball
air cool breezeless
knees locked
body swaying

deep delinquinte future
ever nearer to, and fro
back and forth

face still
balance kept
arms at side

forward drawn backwards
and forwards
toward dim lit
loose beckoning doubted
beginings

each step imagined
removed in advance
caution
pre caution

leap
un lept and pondering
crawling feeling
descending

deep adolescent future
revealing glimmering
lit strange curious

ascend
live

i came to a small clearing along a creek
it was a small patch of grass that tapered into a bed of gravel where dirt met water
the sun was heating my sleeves and I sat cross legged
bows, branches and leaves reaching out around me as if to say, "why do only our roots enjoy the creek's presence?"
apperently trees do not understand their surroundings either
they are a reminder of the dim forest at my back in which i rest just outside of
the creek carving a clearing through the land, it's own space apart from the forest's realm
the air above it fresh, flowing and bright
in the forest the air was still, dark and calming
I sit on the crease between the two and I pack my pipe
as i raise a match, I think, "I'd bet the sun could light this match with its glare."
I stare into the creek's water and lose my conscious
each ripple relative to whats beneath it
I enjoy coming to places like this
finding a spot that, for that moment at least, means more than anything else in my world
a time and place, a space divine in my mind
for a moment, for that moment, for maybe a future moment when I remember that place
or maybe I will have forgotten its importance
no matter, during that moment, this place is a shrine
I realize, no, I feel, there, exactly my place
exactly what part i play in all of this
but I soon forget again as my attention is drawn in another direction
combing each layer, each meaning in my sunny setting
absorbing its presence as it is absorbing my own
I stand up and breath in
then I turn and walk back into the forest from which I first ventured out of in search of my grassy creek side seat

renewal of everything
brought but left out in the rain
once tattered, now we mend, heal and forget
new things are noticed and packed away in neat little packages for memories and awakenings
enlightenment discovered always but only for a second
then the struggle begins all over again
and we sink back in our soft seats and stare out from behind eyes weak and vulnerable
wondering what would we do next?

what do we do next?
these things twist around just outside our reach
as if to stall us out of spite
frustrating us because we feel how close it is
and as if we couldn't look away and then suddenly leap out and touch them
even if only for a moment
sample what it is we wait for
what it is we sit for