The pines had an effect that day
I journeyed down a lonely way.
The silence wrapped me as a shawl
Against the crispness of the fall.
A stream gave trickle, spring too far
To give it strength, it under par;
Yet it was clear with clarity
That helped me see more than most see.
A squirrel, red, jumping tree to tree,
Chattered rebuke to dogs and me
As if I didn’t quite belong
In forest, nor have what I longed.
But it was pines that pierced my eye,
And took away my every sigh;
They blazed with yellows and with golds
That comfort those who have grown old.
There, in deep loneliness of woods,
I stumbled on what I — lone— could.
I’d never grasped it if with one,
Nor seen its glory, blaze of sun.
Yes, I belonged— as one with tree,
With squirrel, with fall, with you, with me.
There came a comfort in it all
That made me stand a bit more tall.
Alone is not the same, you see,
As loneliness, if we’re as free
As fall, as winter, summer, spring,
The freedom that such silence brings
That makes man live as one with earth
And lends to him a greater worth.
Eric M. Vogt