This morning there is no place
waiting for me except where my feet take me
or where my car seems to go of its own accord.
I notice iris stalks in the cold air
beside the gas station driveway
and lemons in a small tree across the street.
None of them have any plans for me
or anything to say, and that is fine because
things real are given in silence, and the silence
of this morning is a great blue bowl
filled with earth and sky,
and the silence of the lemons and iris stalks
is one of mutual respect
of pure being in all of us.
Pine trees in the distance
wear luxurious fir coats,
the mountains' far outline is jagged and wild,
and there is everywhere to go
and nowhere
Max Reif
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/saturday-3/
