In a furrow cut by pain
There the wagon’s stuck again:
The wheels refuse to turn.
The mule has run away,
The weeds are in the hay,
The barn will surely start to burn.
Beneath the wagon in the dust
In the shadow of axle rust
Grows a gilded fern.
I stop for beauty
As if my duty–
Slowing down helps me to learn.
Jan 20, 2013 @ 19:39:27
This is beautiful, WC. So lyrical.
Jan 20, 2013 @ 22:46:23
Thank you so much, RP! You amaze me with the amount of blogs you keep up with and still maintain your own–you are an encouragement to so many
Jan 20, 2013 @ 22:52:58
You pack a punch in last stanza, I loved -’as if my duty’.
Jan 20, 2013 @ 23:09:18
Thank you! I do think it is somewhat of a requirement (or duty) to slow down and take in beauty when we come across it. Part of what’s sad about the whole industrial revolution and urbanization and a quickening of the pace of society is that we can miss beauty because we’re to focused on our tasks and what must be done.
Jan 21, 2013 @ 23:23:05
yeah right, a connection with the nature and its bounties lays severed! You a very sensitive and gifted writer. May I add a little token of appreciation: Liebster Award
Jan 22, 2013 @ 12:31:02
Thank you so much! I will be sure to answer the questions as soon as I can; I am so honored!
Jan 22, 2013 @ 18:19:46
I liked it, especially the metaphor of furrow and pain.
Jan 22, 2013 @ 21:29:03
Thanks! I loved that metaphor as well. I cannot claim authorship of that one line–I used the last line of Babcock’s poem as the starting point for this one. Hope you can forgive the borrowing–I don’t do it toooften and I try to give credit where credit is due. I put these “collaborative” poems in a category I call “Something Borrowed, Something New”. Thanks for dropping by!
Jan 23, 2013 @ 18:50:55
My goodness i feel this poem deeply as it relates to ageing and the aches and pains that slow me down! A beautiful way of looking at it though, gaining wisdom from it x thank you x
Jan 31, 2013 @ 13:52:37
Thank you so much! I’m so glad it was encouraging–aging is a bittersweet process, and wisdom does come at a price. However, I think it’s usually worth whatever we have to pay to acquire it.