Whiffling Wonder
disarmed of perspective, mindless,
to this ancient forest I pay homage,
my senses soaked in misty meadows,
the dark-green carpets of its clearings,
as rough edges of leafy bough sway
and cut the blank blue of their only sky;
with arms outstretched, I stand in awe,
oblation to the wondrous wonders around,
I stretch myself, hoping that I may become
just like an artist's taut, transparent canvas
on which no less than artless and artful truth
may then be indelibly etched and painted;
by allowing this inchoate enchantment
to permeate the core of my whole being,
in a light sense , I feel good having done
something good, no matter how fleeting,
for it whiffles away in the din of subways,
gnarled traffic and toxic smog of rat race city !
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