lonely cabin in the pines
in front, the boundless sky
empty-clarity vast as mind
behind, the rising ridge
a fortress of fearless confidence
vast and held, here i dwell
lonely cabin in the pines
permeated by the sound
of all-embracing silence
nurtured by the view,
the breast-shaped peak
that serves as my central shrine
lonely cabin in the pines
in the fierce winds of changing spring
in the brutal heat of summer
in the crunch and chill of golden autumn
in the snow of pure-white winter
in this always-changing world—
seeking that which doesn’t change
lonely cabin in the pines
melting snow in an over-sized pot
for my tea and soup
no thoughts of greed for wealth,
but a little scheme going for water
lonely cabin in the pines
clouds moving in
heavy oppressive pregnant with wet
inside, curled up tight
under a blanket, warm tea in hand
letting the wind sweep the trees
of winter complacency
lonely cabin in the pines
don’t change my socks anymore
what’s the point?
wash my feet when they feel
like velcro against the sheets
no one to mind
no mind to mind
lonely cabin in the pines
crazy kitten for company
she complains:
always bored and lonely.
well, yes, that’s true,
but isn’t it also
just wonderful?
lonely cabin in the pine
at dawn’s break the sun
slowly enlightens the dark valley below
my heart opens:
can’t save for later
the joy of this moment
Photo by Bonnyb Bendix