Now she rains
Cool and wet, green and lush
Wilds washed away
In a land of extremes
Balance is hard to find
With the pendulum swinging widely
Wildly
Only over time
Does balance blanket
A soothing shelter upon her soil
Flashes of the white of winter
The deepest blue sky
You ever were lost beneath
Drawing you in and back and beyond
Alone and silent and still
Arrested with an unforgiving chill
But now she finds me
Restricted to raingear, cabins, confines
And conversations where I remain so out of place
Who knows when I will no longer be able to remain reserved
Lashing with fire and fury and rage
Open the doors to the cage
And let the wild beast roam free again
Hot as a southern summer night
When here and now the monsoons douse passion
And barefeet and shorts and sunburn shoulders
Suffocate beneath down and wool and oilskin
My uncertainties are never doused
Fed well by water, sun and snow
The one element to flourish
In this land of harsh elements and extremes
I share our latest project, my latest dream, with a visitor from out of town, out of state, for I’m already far from town.
First I hear I’m crazy. Then I hear it must just be luck. I’ve heard both before. Funny how it always comes from those standing on safe ground. Unable to see what it took to get here.
It starts with a dream of biting into the succulent peach and letting the sweet juice flow freely. Then climbing the tree and stretching out, reaching to the edge of the limbs to pluck the ripest fruit.
Can you see more than the results? There I am, eating that ripe juicy peach. I make it look good and easy. Now. But don’t you know? It started with a dream.
There is a price to pay for dreaming. One must step out on that limb to make dreams happen. And it seems like out there where the wind whips and balance is a bit shaky, you might wonder at times if in fact you are more than a little crazy. But that is where you’ll find the luck. That is how you make dreams real. They don’t seem to materialize on solid ground while sitting around.
Sure, one could choose to stay safe, secure, easy. Remain on this side of the river because there is no road, no bridge. Me, I’ll say, let’s build a road, a bridge, and cross the river, and go where the rest aren’t willing to go. And there are my boys, hammers, shovels and saws in hand. Because no one said we could not.
Luck is found out on the limbs.
That’s where you’ll find me, even if I fall from time to time.
A land of extremes sounds like something I’m all too used to. Wonderful poem. :)
Fabulous write Gin. Your words give me a sense of being there, in the elements; and, out on the limb :-)
I think it was Napoleon who said that “he wanted generals who are lucky”. One can make a bit of what some people call “luck”.
Napoleon knew.
This morning I told Bob I was ‘lucky’ my dog was being so good. He said, ‘lucky?’ Well, ah, yes, he’s right. If you knew how many hours, days, weeks, months, now years I’ve worked with my dog… Lucky sure is a loose label for hard work or taking chances.