Thursday, April 13, 2017

Rebellion




Wordsworth was right.

The World is too much with us...

In the early daylight hours, my once-quiet world becomes   racked, yet again, with the Noise of men's machines.
Trucks, electric saws, mowers, and leaf blowers unite to produce one, huge, truculent Cacophony,
A continual assault to my ears.
And the building!  It seems never to cease!

So I grab my walking poles and set out on a long excursion     by the lake.
There, I slow.  There, I can feel the morning breeze breathe...and I with it.
Discern the soft and tranquil twitter of the wild birds as they build their nests,
A building that is serene...akin to the earth, and most pleasing to my senses.

My pedestrianism is a rebellion, and in some ways like that of Emily Bronte
(For a woman to go walking in her time, especially alone, was considered defiant and odd).
But for Emily, to walk the moors in solitude was freedom from constraints, and a prayer.
Mine lies in the defiance of unadulterated, manmade noise.

So I go to hear the flowers bloom.

I go to imagine, as I walk, the soft sound of an animal's footpad in the woods.
I go to drink in the lapping of the water against the lake's shoreline,
And gather in my mind the grasses as they softly swish in the wind.
Yes, I go.

At night, my world is different.
I lie in bed quietly reading,
My window open to the muffled undertones of the owl's trill in the woods.
And, putting aside my book, I close my eyes, still sustained by my morning's walk,
And breathe in the Eyes of the Night.



© 2017 Nancy Duncan




2 comments:

  1. And the peace your words give me are more relevant today......

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  2. Glad to hear...love you, Lori!

    ReplyDelete