Thursday, June 25, 2009

I Have Often Wondered

Ever since
I first saw the words
That you inscribed
On the wall of a shed,
I have often wondered
Over the particulars.
I have actually spent time
Pondering things that I will never know.

Of course,
I wonder
Who you are.
I imagine you alone,
(You are always alone)
Faced into the corner
Of that lean-to shed
Intent on the task
You have chosen for yourself.

I wonder
How long
You stood there
Just to the side
Of the doorway,
The only entrance
For the light of the sun,
The stirring of air,
The sounds of the world at large.

I wonder, too,
About those words,
Such powerful words.
Did they originate
With someone else?
Or, helpless,
Were you overtaken
By their upwelling
From within?

Why, I ask,
Did you choose
To spend
A considerable
Length of time
To so painstakingly
Carve those words
Into the wall
Of a place so hidden from view?

Why not use an indelible marker?
Why bother to add the spray of flowers?
Why relegate such words to relative oblivion?
Why put them in the company
Of the winter windows, stored for the summer,
The random lengths of dryer venting,
The cast-off hiking boots,
The dusty white-feathered dream catcher?

The answers to my questions,
Of course,
Lie within the passion
Of the moment
Of creation.
And you, in the moment,
I would surmise,
Were bound
To its power.


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