I can’t transcend my flesh

I have a meeting tomorrow at 9

No time for deeper introspection

When the quarter ends this month

I think often of conversations

Late night confessionals with the trappings of ritual

Where I briefly glimpse some higher truth

Before it dances out of my perception

It’s by design, of course it is

God forbid there is a moment of peace

The deadlines march ever onward, steadfast and resolute

Which line was it, exactly, that gave up my spirit? 

I struggle, often, to explain my religion

The oddball intricacies of a personal revelation

I am too cowardly to touch

Instead, I search for understanding that will not come

I took a detour on my usual walk

As I heard something call out to me

Deep within a copse of trees

Just down the hill with the sign that read

“No Trespassing”

I stepped into the circle and was overcome

The spirals of green and the strange

Twisting growth of the old trees fascinate

Unbidden, the words come to my lips

“I know I am not welcome.

I take no pictures, only memories.”

I couldn’t take a picture, even if I wanted

I left my phone in the car

Peculiar, isn’t it?

How could I have known in advance?

On the way to the grove, I saw a dog

All white and fluffy like a living snowbank

Later, I saw their twin

A black lab lazing in the sun, guarding a pool

Am I silly for seeing signs that are not there?

For trying to interpret the calm and peace as other?

But I suppose, when you have run from it long enough

Rest is a foreign god you are not ready to know