End of the Road (2002)
Neither expected nor sought, truth arrives.
One phrase, a minute turn of the
wrist, and the beginning reverses itself, becomes
vessel versus point, illuminating
the reach: one sign, two paths. The agave.
How far we’ve come to affect this place.
Last season the flowers were gray and we knew nothing.
Even the stones quivered with laughter.
And then it rained. And the creeks rose, and the bedrock
appeared as if to say your efforts lack
substance. Look underfoot. There lies the truth.
Neither expected nor sought, it arrives.
O at the Edges 
I really like this! It is kind of the desert version of Frost’s “Two Paths Diverged in a Yellow Wood.” I also feel it stands on its own. Great pictures, too!
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Thank you. I would never had connected the Frost poem to this one, but I like it. My wife took the first photo – a much needed storm approaching during a drought.
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Wow! Much to contemplate and reach to connect to one’s own truth. Loved these words, “…the beginning reverses itself, becomes vessel versus point…” ❤
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Thank you. The truth is there, but might not appear when called. 🙂
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Truth cannot be called. It just shows up for those ready to see. 🙂
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That matches my experience.
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“Even the stones quiver with laughter.” Love it all.
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It certainly felt like that at times. And thank you!
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lovely!
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Thank you, Nancie.
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Beautiful. Thank you.
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Thank you, B. Much appreciated.
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Robert, your poems are so quiet, understated and profound. They strike me as richly meditative and provocative of reciprocal meditations in the reader. Very lovely.
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Always good to hear from you, Margaret. Thank you.
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“How far we’ve come to affect this place” — You’ve put into words what haunts me as I think about relocating to the high desert. I know what I’m getting into, but the stones know MUCH more.
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We bought our little rural property in late 2001, and while we were as prepared as we could be from READING, the LIVING reality was of course quite different. Knowing that we would be faced with interesting difficulties was one thing, but actually dealing with them was another. Facing one’s age and physical limitations can be illuminating. Not a bad thing to experience, and often enjoyable. But the stones. Oh, the stones!
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You have totally channelled the Odyssey for this poem… it is a perfect soliloquy spoken by Penelope before Athena intervenes between Odysseus and the vigilante Ithacans.
Further proof you are a genius: 天才！
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Ha! Ithaca, Texas – what’s the difference?
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About 80 oz. of bourbon….
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Yes, that would do it.
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Bravo, I’m in Paris for this!!
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Very good! The truth is often hidden under what we thought was true!
Dwight
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It’s often there in plain sight, unnoticed.
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Yes, and sometimes we refuse to let ourselves believe it until it smacks us in the face!
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Yep. All too often.
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I love the imagery of the rock underneath withstanding the onslaught of outside forces. Sounds a bit like politics! (<:
Dwight
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We can’t evade the limestone!
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The superficial seldom has lasting qualities! Truth can stand alone!
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