Positive
a remembered mountain
lies around this bend in the trail;
more dense forest.
Leaving the theater,
searching for my car,
turning in the wrong
direction.
Driving around my Island
home of thirty years,
shortest routes elude me.
I’ve always been this way.
Each time illusions melt,
chaos,
providing a fresh chance
to see.
(No. 98 in a series of responses to Han-shan’s Songs of Cold Mountain)
The original working title of this piece was “And I have graduate degrees in geography.” There may be a fundamental personality/career truth at work here. Have you ever noticed how the craziest people are often psychiatrists? Functioning sociopaths are social workers? On and on. Well, I have a doctorate in geography, and am spatially challenged. However, based on reactions I’ve gotten to this piece, many others are as well.
The second working title was “Grace.” Grace in the sense of (with age and experience) acceptance of this condition. But also in the sense that there is such insight potential at that moment when the reorienting worlds shift.
(Numeric reference to Han-shan’s poem reflects the order of presentation in Burton Watson’s translation, presented as Cold Mountain, Columbia University Press, 1970.)
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