JB continues to teach me what adventure and the power of naming is all about. This morning was an ordinary hot, sticky July morning, and we took a different path.
He found a blue and white marble and I had a few blissful minutes to sit and listen to the water and watch the sun play of the backs of water bugs
When was the last time you stepped out of routine or took a new path for the sake of adventure and exploration?
The Place of Useful Things
An unfamiliar path off a familiar trail
near the ceaseless up and down of The Mountain
Follow the party shards down to the stream
to The Place of Useful Things
White and red bricks some broken, some whole
Cinder blocks with invisible eyes
The Cyclops is no oddity
Squared cement embedded like conglomerates
stepping around slopes of smooth round granite stones
You hop from stone to stone
I sit on a wide flat round rock watching you bound away,
listening for the incessant woodpecker
and for squirrels running through the upper branches
You bend over and picked something up
as I call in the dragonflies
I fly with the soft green body on black double wings
We look like dizzy butterflies--that's dizzy times two
The sunlight follows the water bugs walking like Jesus
You cradle your prizes in your shirt when I call you back
talking to the dragonflies, bounding from rock to rock
I roll my eyes, wondering what junk you'd bring home
I am as delighted with the blue marble as you are to share it
We bring treasures home in the berry pint and
eat the berries as we pick them
The wind starts the standing leaf ovation
The trees applaud down the familiar path
The Place of Useful Things you call it
Yes, useful. Useful indeed.
He found a blue and white marble and I had a few blissful minutes to sit and listen to the water and watch the sun play of the backs of water bugs
When was the last time you stepped out of routine or took a new path for the sake of adventure and exploration?
The Place of Useful Things
An unfamiliar path off a familiar trail
near the ceaseless up and down of The Mountain
Follow the party shards down to the stream
to The Place of Useful Things
White and red bricks some broken, some whole
Cinder blocks with invisible eyes
The Cyclops is no oddity
Squared cement embedded like conglomerates
stepping around slopes of smooth round granite stones
You hop from stone to stone
I sit on a wide flat round rock watching you bound away,
listening for the incessant woodpecker
and for squirrels running through the upper branches
You bend over and picked something up
as I call in the dragonflies
I fly with the soft green body on black double wings
We look like dizzy butterflies--that's dizzy times two
The sunlight follows the water bugs walking like Jesus
You cradle your prizes in your shirt when I call you back
talking to the dragonflies, bounding from rock to rock
I roll my eyes, wondering what junk you'd bring home
I am as delighted with the blue marble as you are to share it
We bring treasures home in the berry pint and
eat the berries as we pick them
The wind starts the standing leaf ovation
The trees applaud down the familiar path
The Place of Useful Things you call it
Yes, useful. Useful indeed.
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