We rumble north, encased in our glass and our plastic and our steel
They travel south, clad only in feather and down
We crawl our concrete, gouged crudely into the earth to suit our desires
They ride the winds, following the invisible compass of generations
We tote our possessions as we have an insatiable need to acquire
They carry nothing; they need nothing, but each other
We motor, metered by mile and schedule and manifest
They soar, for the sun said the second was right
We go north, we are Lords of the planet, and we can
They go south, they are Impulse, and they must
North, we have conquered the season
South, they know only to embrace it
Oh, how we need to turn back
They travel south, clad only in feather and down
We crawl our concrete, gouged crudely into the earth to suit our desires
They ride the winds, following the invisible compass of generations
We tote our possessions as we have an insatiable need to acquire
They carry nothing; they need nothing, but each other
We motor, metered by mile and schedule and manifest
They soar, for the sun said the second was right
We go north, we are Lords of the planet, and we can
They go south, they are Impulse, and they must
North, we have conquered the season
South, they know only to embrace it
Oh, how we need to turn back
Mike, I enjoyed this piece. Always nice to take a moment and reflect on the directions we take in life.
ReplyDeleteVery nice. Life goes to fast sometimes and we don't take the time to reflect. Material things don't matter. People do.
ReplyDeleteYou're both right, Mel and Emily. An occasional reflection on our direction is imperative. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteThis is a beautiful meditation, Mike.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Matt. Those are kind words coming from the fishing poet himself. Happy holidays, my friend.
ReplyDelete