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December 18, 2011
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Under the trees, and beneath the rainfall
the earth and air received it's cleansing.
Through the woods, a path, or a small clearing
among trees, narrow, accepting, and covered as a wound.
I walked along and redundantly thought
like a ticking clock: taunting my attempt of
resistance to break this ever-lasting cycle of
trepidation. Breathing in the rainy air I searched
and found findings of day, yesterday, and tomorrow
which further clouded and concealed the purpose of this walk.
A fallen tree, change of grass, and thick brush
which marked my destination and also hid the way,
were just as soaked and dripping as the leaves of
the willow trees which lay before me and clearly
have a long sympathy, continue to simply weep with me
like a bird whom is trapped in cage. My body was enveloped
in the feeling, my heart beat as a clock ticks backwards.



I bolted out of the house of willows.
But the helpless sprint wasn't out of weep,
it was of the grey clouds lifting, and the cease of rain.
The sunlight peeked through the clouds. Once off the trial
I found my step, and the ticking grew faster.
the feeling is exhilarating. I was angry
that it took so long, missing out on the brightness.
But I am thankful I'd been given time at all, not all do receive.
Copy change of "Blackberry-Picking" by Seamus Heaney
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