In Reverence of Watching

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A young stag observes me in the morning light,
perceiving me through scent, sound and motion.
I gaze for a long time, then carefully retreat in
a direction that hopefully will not trigger an impulse
to lope toward the busy road.

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Days like these invite us to take heed, pay attention,
deepen our awareness, and to take time to savor  a
vastness that is free of manufactured algorithms
and impulsive chatter.

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I think of my mind as a very cluttered attic. Many of
those heaps of impressions and memories and questions
inspire me. Some have outlived their urgency. Every
so often I straighten those stacks: review old mistakes,
erroneous impressions, unkind acts.
Then I fling open a few internal windows and air out
the attic. And on auspicious  days, entirely new rooms
open up – spaces of thought I wasn't even aware of.

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Watching, observing, listening within, what my father called
his wilderness cathedral, I find new rooms of thought and
discover new questions.