My speech is sculpture
Reflecting struggles with myself ... it is complex
Who can say such complexity is good
When the simple
is beloved by all?
Attaining simplicity is complex
So I struggle
It is my life I so live
Fussing with my pipe
This January afternoon
I live my ideal as I can
So doing I must ask
Is it good to aspire
To be grass
Red oak
Flaming maple
Or Douglas fir
A shining moment in the air?
The stream sings its
Rushing passage fast
Then slow at last in
Ocean’s heaving seas.
Believing less in answers
I handle many tools
In fields deep with choice
Winnowed through time
Through repetition
Many paths through the bush
Meet ,converge, and move towards one
[intuited]
The same directions
Edited by experience
It is too much to ask
Of words that they
Assemble themselves into meaning.
We make our meaning
In every act and stroke
In what we hold close
And keep away
Too much for me to know
Like moss or mountain asphodel
The forest trillium
Persevering trusting hoping
Singing speaking shaping