April 8, 2010

Last night it was an evening of dreams remembered. I awoke recalling so many fractured details of those dreams, some unsettling. When that happens, I try to focus on small, simple things so I can re-gain a sense of balance. In the following poem, by Jane Kenyon, she seems to capture the sort of quiet, grateful moment that can replenish our souls and perspectives.


Coming Home at Twilight in Late Summer

We turned into the drive,
and gravel flew up from the tires
like sparks from a fire. So much
to be done—the unpacking, the mail
and papers…the grass needed mowing…
we climbed stiffly out of the car.
The shut-off engine ticked as it cooled.

And then we noticed the pear tree,
the limbs so heavy with fruit
they nearly touched the ground.
we went out to the meadow; our steps
made black holes in the grass;
and we each took a pear,
and ate, and were grateful.

--Jane Kenyon