|When I’m Alone|
I wander into open spaces
that hide aside the ravines of duty –
tasks done so to shore up the ragging holes,
frays where tenderness is lived
outright yet not without some roughness
inscribed into its terrain.
And inside these little gulleys
that lay strewn throughout and wedged between
my duties, I draw down near to the earth of them,
watch the traversing of the smallest
creatures, their passions acted out
on stages of mound and hillock,
and I become immersed in that theater, that language
spoken through countless scurries.
My thoughts, earth-deep, dig and burrow,
weave and web tunnels of wondering.
When I’m alone, I may curl into these
often eluding places –
such as the paths of ants,
delivering homage, great goods,
to an unseen ruler, but no less revered
than any great leader of nations.
When I’m alone, I feel deep
compassion for all of us, we who go about
the business of life (as we know it)
hurrying through our mounds, hastening
our pace whenever we can, hoping
to make ourselves more, striving,
dreaming of blessings – greater goods,
whether to gather or to give.
© Copyright 2009 Susan M. Botich