The Path of Contemplation

I walked a long path today. Off in the woods nearby. My dogs walked with me, and took side trails on the sly. A little trail becomes a deer trail, though the eucalyptus and pine The oxalis grows wild everywhere the covering that binds. Pine cones and eucalyptus bark curls make the path look like a stream. The sun came through the trees.. the gnats danced happily to its heat. Occasionally a mosquito flitted by and buzzed around my ear. I walked until I grew tired. Found a corral with a couple of mules. They all came to greet me, and blow at the dogs, and dance as if to amuse. I lay down among the trees weary. I contemplated the sky. Its almost like spring out today. Something to do with the air. I studied the oxalis leaves, almost like clover in shape I carefully dissected one, adding to its nape Did you know when you fray the edges when you tear to the core you add flexibility and capability for more? There is beauty in the fractured leaves Their structure not quiet symmetry It holds its shape still but can move to new shapes. It makes me wonder why in people we are attracted only to the virgin of spirit and mind The best companions sometimes are the ones who have the patina of the world on them Who can flex and mold and move who have fractures an occasional tear. A short time later A peregrine falcon flew overhead Crying its indignation At the intrusion into its stead I traveled the path further Walking back to a stream We traversed the rocky crossing another world it seemed There were no tracks upon the ground upon my first cross When I came back just minutes later A raccoons prints I saw It seems that in this secret world There are many secrets to unfold And perhaps I am a secret as well for others on the path I found a pile of deer bones, from fall last they seemed small amounts of sinew where all that assembled the frame The bones had no smell there was nothing left of the hide A scapula was what alerted me first I identified it easily with pride It appeared the creatures of that hidden glen had removed the rest of the deer Had swallowed up the flesh And left a sculpture of light ivory to decorate the path I journeyed back along the track now tired and breathing more It had been several hours since I started I wanted it not to end But tired I was and rest I needed for on my body I depend The forest path is barred now A neighbor telling me the entrance closed Apparently there has been crime and this new rule imposed I discovered hidden paths among the deer paths in the trees And now they will fall back to disuse A memory or revisited through this prose The path of contemplation: - 2-6-2001 Artimus