Saturday, July 5, 2008

Simplicity


I have no commitments to these clouds,
My watch I dropped at the side of the road.

Listen
The sun says it’s now,
The grass says I’m due,
And my soul’s tree sighs,
Welcome home.

Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity!
Thoreau once insisted.

And for a cosmic tick,
I hear it,
I feel it,
I walk on Walden Pond.

But that gospel preaches solitude, one meal a day;
I will suck marrow from more than one bone.

So watch
As I complicate my vision
with this modern machine
(so as to share it with you),
and turn back to the car,
engine still running.


11 comments:

Dusk said...

Did you actually write this? It's incredible! I especially appreciate the actual SIMPLICITY of it!

I wrote an essay on Thoreau once, and although it was compelling, I was an angry young man. It wouldn't convey neither the simplicity nor the beauty of this poem.

Dusk said...

I am looking through your blog, in slack-jawed amazement. I am so pleased with my brain's heightened sense of intuition, if it has little else going for it!

You see, I was looking for writers who "speak" to me. I noticed that there were far more female Writers than male Writers in my search (most of the men are merely political ranters). I stopped looking at blogs from the ladies in hopes of balancing the scales, then I saw the picture of The Barn and something snagged.

That's the good news; the bad news is that I fear that those scales will now never balance!

Sarah Hina said...

Ha! Enjoy being a little askew, Dusk. You wouldn't be the first. ;)

Wow, your comments really made my day. I often had the sense that I was writing in a vacuum before, which is one reason I started a blog. To relay some thought or emotion, and have it find a home in someone else, is the greatest gift a writer can know. So thank you! :)

Oh, and Thoreau is swell. And yet I can't quite untangle myself from the complexities of life...

Aine said...

This really spoke my language....

When I read:
"And my soul’s tree sighs,
Welcome home.
Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity!"

I felt a connection with you-- I've known no one else who understands the meaning of those words as I believe you do.

It doesn't have to be Walden's Pond. We don't have to feel starved. But we don't have to compromise the core value either.

jason evans said...

I know what you're talking about. I don't know if it's slipping away, or beyond, or deeper, or within, but it's something else, something more spiritual than our everydays permit. Thanks for sullying it with technology so we could share it!

(Best picture yet, Sarah. Great composition. I especially like the texture of the mature grass counterposed against the soft sky.)

Sarah Hina said...

Lately, Aine, I feel like I'm compromising everything. It's so hard to strike a balance that makes yourself and everyone else happy.

But I love the ideal that Thoreau lays down. Even if I fall considerably short. And I'm so glad this poem touched you.

Jason, it's difficult to reach that pure, elevated state with the chaos around us. Sometimes, "simplicity" can even have different faces. But of course we'll keep searching...with cameras. ;)

(Thanks for the compliment on my picture! I like this one, too.)

Vesper said...

You've captured the essence, Sarah! Simply beautiful!

easywriter said...

It's difficult not to be too complex, in everything, it's the way of the world and of people; but, I think you have achieved the simplicity you are seeking in and for this piece. It's soul soothing to read and I can actually hear the sigh in:

"And my soul’s tree sighs,
Welcome home."

Sarah Hina said...

Thanks, Vesper. And you and Billy, for the award. :)

Sometimes, Ruth, I think writing is the rare corner in which we can achieve that simplicity. And sometimes, not even there. That last stanza is much too complex, for example.

I'm glad you listened for that sigh. And heard its message.

easywriter said...

Hi Sarah, you might find that last stanza too complex but it heralds the inevitable return from the uncomplicated to the complicated.

Sarah Hina said...

Exactly, Ruth! Love that you caught that. :)