Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Poem: somewhere


you traded nature
for design;
looking for lessons
for teaching them;
for artifice,
for survival;
you traded
joy for a shadow of itself;
honesty for practicality,
and your soul for mere religion,
but when
at last the avalanche struck
as it always does,
and all that was
so carefully built
you sat at the base of the rubble
the rare luxury
you were given,
to rebuild, without the trades,
to simply be,
in trust that in the end,
that is, and always was,


The picture was taken at Thomas Jefferson's "other" home, Poplar Forest. You can click on it for a larger version.



Christine of Epiphany said...

Just watched "Jefferson in Paris" last night~

The Good Life in Virginia said...


willow said...

Thought provoking piece, Tom.

My sixth great-grandfather was a good friend of Jefferson. I wonder if he ever visited at Poplar Forest?

Tom Atkins said...

Willow - Where Montecello was Jefferson's public face, Poplar Forest was his more personal home, so if your sixth great grandfather was a close friend, odds are he did go there. It's a work in progress, like most of us, and fascinating to visit.

Derrick said...

It is probably a lot harder, Tom, simply to be, than what we find ourselves being!

FireLight said...

Tom, I like your "mere religion"... because I think it suggests only the ideas people put in doctrine, not what individuals find and divine in their singular searches for God. It harkens back to C.S. Lewis's Mere Chritianity.

FYI: I left a response to your last - and very thoughtful-- post at TKR.

gingerhillery@mac.com said...

I love the image of sitting at the base of the rubble, free, relieved to be free.

FireLight said...

...of course I meant to type...MERE CHRISTIANITY...
if I only had a brain...