Sunday, March 02, 2008
Altars
Altars
Some plow their ruts
deeper and deeper,
heads down,
never looking
to right or left,
ever seeking
original truth.
Devoted ones journey long,
one pointed,
always uncovering
greater knowledge.
Others skip happily
from path to path,
gathering joy like wildflowers
sprouting all around.
Wisdom clings to their soles,
their hands,
dusting their shoulders
like bits of pollen
drifted from trees.
Scent hovers near,
floating incense
from sweet pine.
Their altars are
fountains of colors,
blossoms and stems
serenely rioting
Dorothy Walters
February 12, 2008
