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The pilgrim wanders the earth
searching for his god.

The hermit sits quietly,
confident that such a search is unnecessary.

There is a ladder called “Time”
used in the ascent from the muck and chaos of youth
to the soft tranquility of old age.

In a rush
sleeping inspiration springs forth
soon to disappear into its own recesses
leaving behind its seed
well planted.

I have been given the wonderous opportunity to assume the guise of a hermit.

…to reside in an imaginary cave
beside a virtual Walden Pond.

…to live in peace with a small furry companion
who, along with fate, guides me though my day.

The lonesome has nothing to do
and no one to do it with.

The hermit has nothing to do
but would rather do it himself.

Follow the lead of Socrates.

Disengage and return to the time when life was about discovery.

 

In the grey dawn,
dog leads man
over the moist grass.

A stop here
A stop there

Yesterday is completed.
A new day begins.