2.08.2006

Gifts to the Silent Watcher

Indoors,
Alone,
In a great city.

The sounds
of human striving
never cease,
never fail
to penetrate
the sighs
of the radiators
and the morse code
of the water pipes.

there is a tree
that seems,
through the
battered window,
to be bent with age
or beckoning for help.

But,
upon stepping
outside,
i am shocked:
the air is gentle,
the people
subdued,
deferential:
kind.

The trees
are gently pressed
into precise little parks
or fenced sanctuaries --
like glittered squares in
an Advent calendar --
proclaiming
their holiness
to the silent
watcher.

There is
no place
so lonely,
so rushed,
and yet so full
of Being,
ceaselessly unfolding:

Here,
humanity exerts
its restless will,
while making room
for Nature,
which waits,
watches,

And,
to that silent watcher,
smiles and waves.

--Mr. Gobley

2 comments:

Richard Lawrence Cohen said...

A heartwarming description of my hometown. I love the Advent calendar image.

Anonymous said...

Just when you think everything has been said or done before someone comes along to talk about morse code on the water pipes.
Bravo.

I love silently taking the gifts that nature has to offer, treasure them, then plant my happiness for the cycle to continue.