We love the free life, But we don't know what it is.
Once, I walked and ran across the Land;
We walked and ran like horses, like deer We ambled like bears, trotted like wolves
And our ears flicked and our eyes scanned the Sky Looking for the eagle above And we scanned the Land for the fox below And the otters in the River And the great whales in the Sea.
We were the last to appear. All things already had their place, All animals their dens, Their burrows, their nests, their webs, Their thickets, meadows, eyries, Their tall grasses, cliffs, tide pools...
We are afraid now. They have no need of us, Of our furniture, our silverware, our machinery, All our clothes, our great many shoes, stacks of paper, Our complicated credit and debt..
Our obligations to a Great Society Which seems to float further and further away from us Shining in all its complicated architecture And irremediable components.
When I was young I was romantic about the Land. I tried to live there, houseless and penniless, no car, no address, No job.. No friends either. It proved itself too much for me.
But I have not forgotten the Dream.
I too love the free life, I can envision it as seamless, where we fit, Properly, ingeniously, wonderfully in the palm of Nature's Land. But I may never know what it truly is, this time.
We are not beneficial yet.
There is a deep understanding, where fear is more akin to awe. Perfect love has something to do with knowing Who you are and where you truly belong.
In the end, this body belongs to the Land, and my Heart is content with that.
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