Wild Gourds on a Hillside
I followed along in a sophist's path
Exploring the limits of my own endurance.
Measuring my strength, observing my weakness.
Wandering fruitless trails with dogged determination.
My head was bowed under the weight.
Trodding along in the muggy heat.
My eyes lowered, focusing on stones in the path
Because I dared not look closely at the destination.
And behold, in the midst of my folly,
Suddenly as I turned a dry dusty corner,
The white noise of the river far below
Was obscured by an invisible angelic barrier.
And there on the hillside I saw them.
Wild gourds. As unexpected as thunder in winter.
They grew rampant in that hushed place
Where the river sounds could not scold them.
What rare seed had fallen here and when?
And what secret gardener tended them ?
The quiet air surrounded the vines,
The angel wing hovered to watch my reaction.
I fell on my knees to speak with them.
"Oh ancient mystic plants, were you the ones,
that shielded Jonah in the dry places?
What message do you bring?"
Only silence answered my questions.
But no matter, the wonder was still in place.
I left them with reluctance and continued on the path,
But my journey was forever altered.
I returned to my dwelling with a secret joy.
A confirmation of my mystic's quest.
And sometimes I smile, even in the midst of chaos.
Because I know the hillside where the wild gourds grow.
I followed along in a sophist's path
Exploring the limits of my own endurance.
Measuring my strength, observing my weakness.
Wandering fruitless trails with dogged determination.
My head was bowed under the weight.
Trodding along in the muggy heat.
My eyes lowered, focusing on stones in the path
Because I dared not look closely at the destination.
And behold, in the midst of my folly,
Suddenly as I turned a dry dusty corner,
The white noise of the river far below
Was obscured by an invisible angelic barrier.
And there on the hillside I saw them.
Wild gourds. As unexpected as thunder in winter.
They grew rampant in that hushed place
Where the river sounds could not scold them.
What rare seed had fallen here and when?
And what secret gardener tended them ?
The quiet air surrounded the vines,
The angel wing hovered to watch my reaction.
I fell on my knees to speak with them.
"Oh ancient mystic plants, were you the ones,
that shielded Jonah in the dry places?
What message do you bring?"
Only silence answered my questions.
But no matter, the wonder was still in place.
I left them with reluctance and continued on the path,
But my journey was forever altered.
I returned to my dwelling with a secret joy.
A confirmation of my mystic's quest.
And sometimes I smile, even in the midst of chaos.
Because I know the hillside where the wild gourds grow.