~gazing out my kitchen window~
~change of seasons landed~
~nature again makes her mark~
She didn't ask my permission
nor scatter her leaves orderly.
She allowed them to fall where they may;
with great purpose she allowed it.
All that matters to him is the next nut
or the next squirrel to chase around the tree.
All that matters to her is
the next meal,
the next intruder,
or the next two-legged creature
that comes along
to caress and talk with her.
The animals do not worry
or engage in much ado.
Aye, I do think the animals
in many ways are wiser than man.
What is their secret?
Simplicity and instinct.
Why have we allowed so much complexity,
Where have our instincts gone?
Who stole them?
Why did we allow it?
Perhaps if we jump off the Jones' wheel;
perhaps if we smile and touch again;
perhaps if we quiet ourselves
long enough to observe the animals,
even in the cities;
Perhaps we can again arrive at simplicity,
arrive at instinct,
arise each day
with thankfulness in our hearts
and a skip in our step...
Perhaps then life in all its richness
and oneness can be enjoyed
and we can bask in all the goodness
with which we are surrounded.
Will you join me?
Here, take my hand
and dance with me.
Show me your steps
and I'll show you mine.
Together we can make our lives,
our families, our world
A little better place.
I stood at my kitchen window one winter day. I gazed into the unkept woods beyond the backyard, noticing how nature cares for itself. I longed for simplicity. I longed for people to live as one. I longed for the non-sterile life of the wild. I longed for relaxed standards from perfection. I longed to find me.
When I wrote this prose I was still involved with a high-control religious group which believed (and I imagine still does) that the true believers were those who believed as the group taught. To desire oneness with unbelievers was not of God and could result in becoming contaminated or possessed or influenced by the adversary (the devil and devil spirits).
I hid this poem in my journal until after I left the organization. After some of the toxicity was neutralized, I was brave enough to share the poem publicly. But even then I slightly trembled, for fear of being open to inclusiveness. How sad for the family of man to be so divided that to think of peace and tolerance among various beliefs is evil.
I'm glad to be mostly free from that school of thought; though it does try to creep in from time to time and whisper to me that I am wrong to desire harmony among humanity's many tribes. When it whispers I remind myself that I am o.k., that inclusiveness is a good thing; and to remember to dance together with those who wish to dance, to share, and to continue to reach for peace.
I also hope that mankind is the master of progress and that we do not allow progress to master our moments of life.