people barely read this anymore, so...why not.
I happened upon a journal I was using last summer during my motorhome trip through Oregon and my drive across the country with Wende. I wanted to write this down.
because it's only from a plane that you gain
a true sense of the immensity of the earth
we complain from our birth that
living in the present tense would be unfair
it's hard to remember that a rose is
not just a flower but the center
of a compass and in spite of our maps
and magnetic needles proclaiming
You Are Here in the middle of everything
we know this isn't so
we are the petals on the edge, more easily
moved by the breeze and even our
metaphors are only earth-skin deep
and that's okay
if that's the way that we see beauty then I'm
glad our earth has such a thick crust
because I'm not saying that we must
change our ways before we turn to
dust but just to see that there are depths
to the world we can't conceive
and slow dreams that our butterfly
lives can barely scent on the air
because it's only from a plane that you gain
a true sense of the immensity of the earth
we complain from our birth that
living in the present tense would be unfair
it's hard to remember that a rose is
not just a flower but the center
of a compass and in spite of our maps
and magnetic needles proclaiming
You Are Here in the middle of everything
we know this isn't so
we are the petals on the edge, more easily
moved by the breeze and even our
metaphors are only earth-skin deep
and that's okay
if that's the way that we see beauty then I'm
glad our earth has such a thick crust
because I'm not saying that we must
change our ways before we turn to
dust but just to see that there are depths
to the world we can't conceive
and slow dreams that our butterfly
lives can barely scent on the air