Spring

Something new in the air today, perhaps the struggle of the bud

to become a leaf. Nearly two weeks late it invaded the air but 

then what is two weeks to life herself? On a cool night there is 

a break from the struggle of becoming. I suppose that's why we

sleep. In a childhood story they spoke of the land of enchant-

ment. We crawl to it, we short-lived mammals, not realizing that 

we are already there. To the gods the moon is the entire moon 

but to us it changes second by second because we are always fish 

in the belly of the whale of earth. We are encased and can't stray 

from the house of our bodies. I could say that we are released, 

but I don't know, in our private night when our souls explode 

into a billion fragments then calmly regather in a black pool

in the forest, far from the cage of flesh, the unremitting "I." This was 

a dream and in dreams we are forever alone walking the ghost

road beyond our lives. Of late I see waking as another chance at

spring.

> Jim Harrison, Spring