Work inside
On concrete floor
Rings loud hour after hour.
Rushing here and there
To keep ahead of Nora V.
Hands grow cold
And jaw clenches.
Mind overwhelmed by
Human suffering
Clings to compassion
But feels like sinking.
Work outside
On lonely ground is
So quiet the first half hour.
Gathering firewood
The internal fire lights up
Coat comes off.
Here to stay awhile
Mind empties to
Silence so profound
That at once the forest sings
Welcome to the neighborhood.
I love that kind of hard working silent solitude that connects us to the land. I used to love having a woodstove and chopping wood. Now I have an electric pretend fireplace, in deference to my advanced age, hee hee.
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