The Poems: Wildflowers
The Way Will Make Itself Known.
The wildflowers
are striving into October as
sunlight still conspires with the
soil, with the
hidden in dark places.
Those domesticated and once potted are
drying on top of the compost pile.
I was out walking in the
immediate and particular.
I sensed within me a
labyrinth unraveling,
loosened out into a
vast realm of the new Earth.
I said to the dogs, “There will be
a great accounting for the
parts of ourselves we have
planted in pots.” When I
worry should I go back to
stake some claim in the
depleted soil of convention, instead,
the next step forward turns real and
I must take it. When I doubt my love for
a free faith, something immediate and
peculiar appears to bring me warmth
in the hidden and dark places.
The Way will make itself known. Love and wild places lead to the next vista, where we can see just enough of the path ahead. I’ll meet you there. That’s where the wildflowers grow.
Wandering Off is a slow-growing, easy-going Way-station for readers who might need a moment to go off-trail and take a breath. All Left People, Right People, Earth People, and Sky People are welcome.