We Don't Believe. We Only Fear.
This morning, as I walked the marsh, the air
was alive with birdsong. Brier paths still muddied
by last nights rain tunneled around the large pools
that teemed with life. Seems impossible that
these were once cesspools for the sewer plant.
Two young naturalists look up into a blue sky
"What do you see?" I ask. "Not much yet." They with shy smiles.
After that, I walk the whole marsh as if I were a cartographer spelling home
Or I take you back.
When I reach the end I find the same two naturalists this time holding a four foot garter snake that coils peacefully around the man's bare arm. And I am surprised not to startle.
Fear is like that; when you least expect it
all of the restoration you've done
cleaning up what's come before
pays off and suddenly there is only
the echoing calls of birds, warm strobes of light
and the quiet naturalist waving to you
holding a four foot snake
as you continue on your way.