[at-l] poem

[Jim Mayer <mayer@wrc.xerox.com>]

I wrote this poem last night for a friend who is an avid walker and is
going through a tough time right now.  It's called "For Judi".

-- Jim Mayer

The buzzing in the trees comes from power lines,
Not the busy lives of insects,
And the rumble in the sky is the roar of jets,
Not summer thunder rolling across the hills,
Brown grass juts from frozen ground,
No wildflowers bloom in winter,
And asphalt lies below my feet,
And binds the living earth beneath its shell.

I am walking, and the rhythm takes me.

I am walking here,
I’m walking now,
Each step I take,
Leads to another.

With every step,
With every breath,
The weight of time,
Lifts off my shoulders.

In perfect time,
In perfect space,
With perfect grace,
I touch creation.

I’m walking here,
With every step,
In perfect time,
I feel salvation.

And the summer insects sing their lives,
And walk the patterns of their destiny,
And dark clouds carry thunder to the hills,
And share the skies with sunny days,
And green grass springs from the cradle of the earth,
And flowers bloom to catch my eye,
And the living world grows beneath my feet,
And tree roots crack the Mother’s asphalt crown.

Which world is real?
Only my soul perceives the line,
I choose to walk the summer trail,
And seek those moments, freed from time,
Where all I own is on my back,
And all I see is mine.

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