I once stood on a steep hill
watching a fool stumbling his way
s l o w l y
and painfully to the top.
He didn’t
follow the path, but instead
a diversified route through rocks
and trees
and rose bushes. I thought
him foolish, considering
the smooth simplicity of the path.
For hours I watched him, amazed
by his actions as he rolled in the grass,
dug under stones and such.
At last he stood beside me on the peak,
smiling. I questioned him at length
on his trip, stating how pointless
it seemed. He said, “I helped a young robin
back into its nest;
I watched the sun set in the west,
through a rose bush;
I counted the petals in a daisy-chain,
and cried at the waste;
I found a quartz crystal
that had swallowed a rainbow;
I watched a fieldmouse nursing five children;
I spied on a bud that bust forth as a violet;
I heard the universe speak
through the throat of a swallow.”
And he left me,
standing sad on the hill.
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