Unavoidable

author’s note:

Such a strange feeling: to be a part of nature, and yet alien.


WATCHERS

Despite lack of awareness
we can not destroy
the spider owl--

that bird flying undercover
by night
to perch in dreams

that rarely see daylight--

though one lucky evening
as I wrestled asleep

I turned to see
at the window
two gold fire eyes
embedded with rings
of darkness--the owl
stared into me

with a noncommital attitude--
the bird saw my troubles
but did not judge--indulge--
felt no worry for me--

I knew then
what I’d sometimes sensed before:
the world has eyes
with which to watch us.

The spider owl collects
our vital information

--not facts--statistics of the moment--

but the pitch tones of our watercourse--
vibrations which indicate the progress
of the refining process.

But other creatures also operate as Seers--

I’ve sometimes felt
a wild boulder
watching me--as well as
the occasional
oblong cloud--

though they care they do not
become emotional--
they understand--clearly--
but without pity.

Even something as monumental
as a mountain takes a moment
to know me--

and can then beam
that spot of information
across vast distances
to whatever river or lake
I might visit next--

so that the water knows
what I need
before I even arrive.

Perhaps that is why
some people try
to void the spider owl:

they sweat the verdict--

they wish to silence
all that whispering--

they dare not face the fiery eyes
of wheat fields.  We know
what we’ve done to survive.
How we’ve erased landscapes:
coastlines and islands,
glaciers and forests.

But such things as we destroy
are actually indestructible--
despite rearrangement
of their structural components
they still maintain
their basic spirits.

All we’ve pounded to dust
waits for us,
will reckon with us
in time--

not to punish,
but to require
that we finally admit
the obvious secret:
the grief of our fear.

© 2008, Michael R. Patton

dream steps