“Yet, the traveler who has just climbed a steep mountain
and sits down at the top finds a perfect pleasure in
resting. But would he be happy if he were forced to rest
all of the time?”
–from The Red and the Black by Stendahl.
I do not regret reaching my plateau,
Only building a homestead here.
Though the sun at this elevation,
Closer to me than ever,
Shines warmer and brighter,
The day is not longer or fuller.
(I once saw the face of an angel in the clouds
But upon ascending to the sky, I understood
That visage was merely a hanging mist.
From this knowledge, I recoiled . . . . )
See: the budding trees in the valley, pinks
And whites bubbling out of a long hibernation;
the dusty trail wound down the slope to its floor;
And the wind drags through the crisp
Blades of grass, makes them restless.
–It’s only the face of a wondrous child
But it is divine.
Copyright 2013 by Michael Marsters.
All rights reserved.