This Place Poem by Bill Galvin

This, a place…
Abundant with dark green moss
And off to the side of a trail
Only lightly traveled
For its distance, its oddness, and arduousness.

The wisdom of ages walled within,
Yet further inward still,
A light… centered in a single room,
- - The same fiery element
Throughout eons of attraction,
Awesomely and pensively
Attempting to achieve a stillness, a realization
Of something other than - -
Emanating from part of a clouded window
Once rubbed clear by curiosity,
And illuminating the narrow path.

That traveler,
Did he continue over the threshold,
Or cover his eyes to come this far from formula
Only to despair from a lack of confidence, perspective?
To discharge himself from the challenge…
Shield himself from the truth…
Turn back to the comforts of conformity;
Then, to disingenuously relate
The tale of the trip in overzealous half-truths?

No matter.

This, a place…
Gateway to the universe…
Mankind in the valley below
Waiting where the trail is wide and in easy grades,
Collectively alternating direction,
Wearing the same route weary;
Repeat; repeat in easy grades
Earning today in tomorrows.

This, a place
Where natural balance is bred;
Where green freshness springs
From the perspiration of the journey;
The place of evolutionary love;
Indeed, of awareness and relationship
With every thing and every soul.

High on this mountainside…
A view from a clearing unobstructed;
A surrounding forest,
Its darkness inviting penetration,
Its strangeness warming to familiarity.
A multitude of new sights, sounds, and sensations.

Here, on this mountainside…
A place…
Where timelessness is.




Bill Galvin May 1972 White Mts. NH