Walking Home (A Poem)

Walking Home (June 6, 2006)

Stepping
off the path
suddenly, I see
myself, closer to
an ant than a mountain
something less than the
going rate for ambivilance, still
I walk with purpose, just in case it is
my stride, my pride, the structure of my spine
designed to hold heaven high, in its place,
and me in mine, like the wind, which
is everywhere and nowhere, not
deaf but blind to the scope
of symmetry you whisper to
the shuddering grass,
struggling with
the weight
of the sky.

N.