foraging for wisdom

a couple weeks ago, i read one of my original poems in public for the first time. it happened to be at church during a series that challenged people to step out and step it up, to get involved in living out their dreams, being good to and for each other, and escaping the half-nelson society has on them by turning off the t.v. and turning on their minds. okay, so i'm already off-base, but it's a good series and a subject that needs to keep being brought up. thankfully i want to write on this every day, so i'll attack that later.

so the poem, titled "a walk in the woods with Merton", delved into the realm of being in touch with God through nature; specifically, how a walk under the trees, by the streams, through the valleys and across the tops of hills, along the edges of shadows all can affect a person so powerfully. the animals and plants are so amazing out/in there.

what intrigues me is that people see things differently, basically. i can sit in the same environment, look at the same things, and i am still amazed about that which Thomas Merton () wrote. he had a spiritual connection with the natural world and with its Creator that i long to have; a way of seeing things and explaining them that seem so deep and relevant that it makes me want to be out there more and more until i start to "get it". at any rate, that's the gist of the poem. if you want to check it out, it's posted below. this isn't bloody shakespeare. of course, i'm not a big fan of shakespeare....

a walk in the woods with Merton

sitting and waiting for understanding –
patiently longing to experience that moment
where God notices me yearning to know
what movements or sounds, what creatures,
what raindrops or reverberating thunderbolts,
what stirrings deep and mysterious,
what mixture of light and dark on forest floor
by peaceful rocky stream
awakened the sleeping truth
in the greatest and most meek of the Creator’s imagination;
how i search for under what rock lay the answer,
from inside which piece of wood arose the question,
how was this spot in the woods so powerful to one man
and if i desire it so much, need a response so badly,
why do i not feel that which i so long to touch,
to hold dear to me, then to let go and watch soar above
and then again to glide peacefully and slowly back to my soul?
more than respect of age, i long for wisdom;
more than awe of God, i search for form;
in place of the search, i seek contentment from experience;
instead of merely containing a soul, i need to be One with this place.

to have and to lose are one in the same;
on the warm, damp floor of these woods,
one day i placed my spirit in the hollow of a tree
and walked away.
today i am here to enter once again into the holiest of holies –
from whence i came, to where i was, now i long to go.

let me know the power of the trees,
the strength of a seed pushing up through the earth,
the echo of a bird’s call through the valleys,
the patient path of the turtles and slugs,
the unblinking attention of the fish,
the steady, sure footsteps of the mighty cat;
but most of all, allow me to realize
how one man could capture the essence of You
by being in this place where my only discovery
has been the beginning of the search.