My life’s wave is at its crest.
The thought of work becomes
a friend of the thought of rest.
I see how little avail
one man is, and yet I would not
be a man sitting still,
no little song of desire
traveling the mind’s dark woods.
I am trying to teach my mind
to bear the long, slow growth
of the fields, and to sing
of its passing while it waits.
the dark woods are shifting here….
inquiry for today~ what are you holding onto?
is big enough