Sunday, April 8, 2012

they push

these trees
and these clouds
and these eyes
with the brief insight
that holds still
just long enough
to remind me
that these edges
these precipices
of insight and understanding -
well they push
so like
stepping stones
across rivers
so like the small worn down path
that weaves
through the fields of waving grass
so like the worn handholds
in the cliff-face

they push
by their simple existence

1 comment:

Pauline said...

To recognize those stepping stones is to honor them.