Sunday, July 18, 2010
On a Saturday Walk in an Old Cemetery
Why is someone else not here? How do I get to be the only one to enjoy this right now?
I shake my head at times, incredulous at my good fortune. Without needing to make way for others or wait my turn, I step up to a view that reveals depth upon depth of morning green. Early sunlight conspires with the highest branches of trees and outlines leaves that no ladder could reach.
I do nothing to make this moment possible except show up, but a whole world seems ready to address a message to the fortunate person who does.
Who wouldn’t listen to a message when it comes with such generosity?
Who wouldn’t send a message in reply, speak words into the morning air and the silence and the welcoming heights above which these leaves lift their green?
Who wouldn’t vow to be back in the same place at the earliest opportunity to speak again?