I could hardly wait for the rain to come to a cease fire. The day was long and I felt caught between the path of reality and the questions of life that stir within. Slowing to a calming sprinkle I chanced a stroll through the woodlands out back. The train nearly a mile away could be heard as its hum competed with the mating birds of spring. The further I traveled the more questions I had and the more Mother Nature revealed. There were many signs of man’s destruction and nature’s uncanny ability to forgive in the most strangling of situations.
Wavering on which direction to continue, the indecisiveness had me at a stand still, almost as if I was somehow lost in an area that I frequented often. The stream overflows into a small pond half filled with cattail and surrounded by many small flowering trees. I found myself mesmerized by the reflection of the dancing dogwood. I felt a connection or comrade with nature as both she and I struggle with our surroundings. It wasn’t necessarily succumbing but overcoming that triggered self doubt. Where the road will lead and what is at the end toys with the spirit creating a refuge for fear.
Once again I strolled around the pond taking in the beauty of the rebirth of spring. Still unsure of what troubles the soul; I found self following the path back towards home.
Here awaiting deep in the hollow is the comfort zone that ask very little of me or is that it ask for all of me, body and soul? Everything seemed near perfect, the Chinese Wisteria matured into its glorious blooms and the seedlings that I planted in hopes of the future had found their place within the landscape. The hills and the trees seem to complete the frame of life, yet something drastically is missing.
Wavering on which direction to continue, the indecisiveness had me at a stand still, almost as if I was somehow lost in an area that I frequented often. The stream overflows into a small pond half filled with cattail and surrounded by many small flowering trees. I found myself mesmerized by the reflection of the dancing dogwood. I felt a connection or comrade with nature as both she and I struggle with our surroundings. It wasn’t necessarily succumbing but overcoming that triggered self doubt. Where the road will lead and what is at the end toys with the spirit creating a refuge for fear.
Once again I strolled around the pond taking in the beauty of the rebirth of spring. Still unsure of what troubles the soul; I found self following the path back towards home.
Here awaiting deep in the hollow is the comfort zone that ask very little of me or is that it ask for all of me, body and soul? Everything seemed near perfect, the Chinese Wisteria matured into its glorious blooms and the seedlings that I planted in hopes of the future had found their place within the landscape. The hills and the trees seem to complete the frame of life, yet something drastically is missing.
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