Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Confessions of a Stranger

author's note:

As a child, I was lucky enough to learn: these woods are so strange.


I wanted to lay claim to the land

so I ignored what this land told me:

you are a stranger here--

a transient...a mote

passing through...on a breeze.

But finally one idle day
this ignorance ended
when I was suddenly caught
by the active stillness
of a sunray

and began to listen--
and began to feel.

I realized then
the land contained a presence
I could not fathom:

something quite monolithic:

so much more than what I am--

how could I claim this land as mine?--

I am indeed a passenger here.

So by rights,
this land can put a claim on me
for the time of my journey.

Thus, I continue to listen
for further instruction...

but as a mote
I sometimes feel
quite insignificant

and so, may attempt
to inflate myself
by rebelling against
the demands of this land

but in fighting the reality
I squander my strength
and only regain my power
when I again surrender--

when I again become
an honest man.

© 2014, Michael R. Patton
listening to silence: poems of meditation

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