Friday, October 24, 2014
Scarlet Berries
Scarlet Berries
(Inspired by Rosemerry Wahtoma Trommer)
When I look at the scarlet berries
necklace of beads adorning the leaves
of the branches above
and those fallen below
let me not ponder their genus
or lineage,
their uses, or history.
Let me admire their glistening skin,
the way they turn to the sun at morning,
and hide their delicate faces in the night.
And when the moon comes forth,
in the darkness
of the summer sky,
let me not worry about the true distance
between our world and it,
or how much it possibly weighs,
or when white suited men will come once more
to plant their flags
above its surface.
When I follow the oak lined trail
through the forest grove,
let me not pause to calculate
the square feet of lumber
their corpses might provide,
the “profits” their “owners”
might gain.
Nor carry a book to memorize
the names of all the many things
and creatures I meet on the way—
flowers golden and amethyest,
the small beings scurrying away,
the grasses singing in the undergrowth,
the birds soaring overhead,
heading somewhere.
The history of these mountains,
with their immeasurable tranquility.
The clouds dragging their white shawls
across the blue skrim of the sky.
Let me breathe the presence of each,
know it for another of who I am,
drink deeply of this stillness.
Dorothy Walters
October 21, 2014
(image from internet)
