photo: Jaro Spichal
Wherever the mind dwells apart is itself
a distant place.
– T’ao Ch’ien (“Drinking Wine”)
We have been there, idling across pastures
like cattle to ridgetops with focused eye
turned blurry with the mind’s appeal to wander—
an easy trek in open space, we gravitate
to isolated places where granite rocks
take the shape of animals, where oak trees
dance with sweeping boughs and speak
a language without words we comprehend.
When we come home to flesh, to the clatter
and complicated clutter of more mortal busyness,
our senses shocked and fogged with dismay,
we become the aliens for a moment on this planet
returning with translations, with fresh offerings
of peace and poetry—we nod to all the animals,
leaving little gifts of good-will along the way.
drycrikjournal 
Merry Christmas, John. May it be filled with joy and blessings.
janet
LikeLiked by 1 person
It came upon a midnight clear-Last night was. Feeding the horses in 24 degrees and using a hammer to break 1/2 inch of ice off the water trough reminds me that there is another force in our world besides us.
HAVE A GREAT DAY EVERYONE111 LENORE
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks John, and thanks for bringing us with you all year, through the tears of the dry and the joy of the wet.
Neil
________________________________
LikeLiked by 1 person
LikeLiked by 1 person