And I step into the sanctuary of serenity
My huckleberry trail with her soft path of dead redwood needles and
Dirty bay leaves to carry my tired feet and sighing heart
I’ve been wishing for a padded sound proof room into which I would puke
My anger poison and beat out frustration
Then simply leave and the whole mess would disappear behind the door
No clean up
No concerns of needing
To be understood
Or considerate
Or polite
The highway 101 hum still reaches the trail and feels that many miles
Removed
Me and my thoughts
Me and my painful anxiety
Me and my anger
We walk on soft needles
November 2010 - it was one of the most difficult times I can recall
ReplyDeleteI wish I could walk with you on your huckleberry trail. I can imagine the smell of the pine needles and leaf mold. Breath deep, it is beautiful. I can also hear the far off traffic (it is seldom far enough away in our everyday lives to escape it's intrusion into our limited nature sanctuaries.)
ReplyDeleteI am sad to hear that you have anger, and anxiety, and forced politness in your life. Walk quietly, breathe deeply, be always kind to youself. Be well. The last stanza is comforting and hopeful. I can see that you are working on doing that. This poem feel like a peek into your psyche- just what a poem should do.