Spectator II

Cold today: 1st of May
cloud canopy - sun is
veiled and quiet.  Male
Siskin on the feeder and the
river is loud:  Hydro
have let the water out,
the falls will gush.  I push
my muscles hard in this place
(and the House Martins are back!
I just spied one high, high
fluttering.  O joy!)
I wait to think the day,
see my list of wants and
needs - a different hierarchy
here, altered priorities.
Much is about my heart
and spirit, healing,
settling.  I rove over
years and scenes trying to
make sense of it:  life is
the search for understanding
the unknowable
that can't be known, the
unanswerable, the mysterious -
the answer isn't the point
it is the search, the question
that counts, the question
that never ends.  I have
lots of them.  Maybe the
beauty of life, and its
sorrow and pain, are its
mystery.  Spring blossom so
much enjoyed before it
falls to earth and dies.
I miss my family
that was.  Without them
I lost the sense of who I am
and why - I have been
a wanderer in far places
far reaches of country and
terrain.  I flew high, high
fluttering, trying,
but I fell to earth again,
now I am content to live
among worms and grubs, watching
things grow, watching the birds.

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