Friday, August 26, 2005
Finding Stillness
Alone
On forest path
Steps cushioned from sound
Soft blanketing
Layers of fallen needles muffling footfall
Create hushed shuffles
The trail leads to water's green edge
Then hypnotized by murmurs of mossy stone, what else to do
But stare at ripples
Thoughts start to come
Who am I? How do I
Learn to live my life
Alone?
Sharp crow caw jolts the mind's reflection.
A stream's reflection does not suffer the same
Break from reality
It keeps reflecting the world
Peering closer reveals more details
Closer still
Beneath its flow
The still depths
Hold mystery
I know not
If in the cool there
May be peace
Maybe monsters
Maybe nothing
But injured tangles of weed and murk
On forest path
Steps cushioned from sound
Soft blanketing
Layers of fallen needles muffling footfall
Create hushed shuffles
The trail leads to water's green edge
Then hypnotized by murmurs of mossy stone, what else to do
But stare at ripples
Thoughts start to come
Who am I? How do I
Learn to live my life
Alone?
Sharp crow caw jolts the mind's reflection.
A stream's reflection does not suffer the same
Break from reality
It keeps reflecting the world
Peering closer reveals more details
Closer still
Beneath its flow
The still depths
Hold mystery
I know not
If in the cool there
May be peace
Maybe monsters
Maybe nothing
But injured tangles of weed and murk
Monday, August 08, 2005
Easter Island
This makes me think of the lost peoples. Big mysteries. What were the statues for? How did they get here and what happened to the people who made them? I wonder about those ancient times that are long forgotten. Thor Heyerdahl tried to prove that the settlers of Easter Island came from South America. Maybe predecesors of the Incan people.
