THE THREAD | Among the Magnolia Trees
As this pandemic year continues to intersect with this season of life raising young children, there has not often been a lot of time for solitude -- not nearly enough time to truly be alone. Last week, while visiting friends who live deep in the woods just east of Oxford, Mississippi, I found myself walking alone down a quiet road through the fog in a forest of bald cypress, shortleaf pine, and magnolia. It was only a thirty minute walk, but the time to myself in the woods was a gift. As I walked, I slowly remembered a poem I first started writing four years ago but never finished. It's strange how slow some things are to emerge. Here's the poem. I hope it serves you this morning.
~ ~ ~
AMONG THE MAGNOLIA TREES
The magnolia never seems to mind
if someone else remembers a year
when the blooming was less than magnificent.
The moon does not worry
what others might think
if she just keeps to herself
behind the clouds a while longer.
Deer do not grow paralyzed
by the presence of a fence they recognize.
The pond does not abandon itself
after a few rocks are thrown.
And you, dear mind of your own:
How to untie these lying knots that bind you
and struggle until you leave them
lying behind you.
The forest does not fall apart
in the fog.
~ ~ ~
Image by Kate Moore
~ ~ ~
What I'm reading: A.G. Sertillanges' The Intellectual Life, Jaron Lanier's Ten Arguments for Deleting Your Social Media Accounts Right Now, Garden & Gun magazine
What I'm listening to: Jeff Buckley's "Satisfied Mind," Julien Baker's Little Oblivions
What I'm watching: Song Exploder
~ ~ ~
Peace & grace,
Andrew