Sunday, September 1, 2013

At Beth's Place

Three travelers on the no-path take refuge On the front porch of an Austin area artist's Compound (near Lake Travis), in its construction phase

Everything here is big, just like the Lone Star state's Website says it is.  Huge sky with puffy white clouds Slowly, and I mean very slowly, drift past the front porch.

It's summer and the air is hot and the ground is real dry
Hummingbird feeders are visited, and a circling hawk
Is watching us.  Nobody is moving...only this writing pen
Moves...everybody is slouched into the comfortable
Wicker furniture, following an evening of soft partying
It is quiet here, save for the cooler air which streams through

I took an outdoor shower this morning surrounded by
Red cardinal birds, which are sharing the compound with
A dozen cats, all scampering around over and under
The picnic table, as I got revived from the early morning heat
By clear southwest hill water at the shower station

Hooray for friends!  This would be impossible except that
We all made friendships along the life highway,
Proving that everything good just keeps increasing in value;
Key to removing the hellacious enigma of postmodernism
We create our collective social reality together
Every day.  The result may or may not be "society",
But it's cohesive right now on Beth's front porch

OMing on the outbreath, I watch backing being glued
To an art sculpture, some sort of moonscape looking 
Surface that fits together puzzle-like, maybe destined
For the bottom of an aquarium, this witnessed by two new friends
And one true comrade and fellow traveler on the no-path
As three clouds have now fused, and are barely moving
Past us, like a huge pearl colored ship in the sky

OMing on the outbreath, we are encircled by trees on the surrounding
Hillsides, we sit at the bottom of a shallow bowl in the bush,
The main house is in a Texas forest, grasshoppers are many
But the rattle snakes and scorpions are few; there is
An intensity hereabout that balances the pervasive calm

I glance at my wristwatch, observing that the time is 4:20 PM.
Where did the slow moving day go?  Everything changes here
Just barely, but yet the morning has disappeared altogether
And the afternoon might be next.  It looks fairly stable
Right now, but insect noises are beginning further down
In the trees, and this signals the oncoming of the evening

OMing on the outbreath, OMing on the outbreath...

Craig Louis Stehr
Leander, Texas

No comments:

Post a Comment