Fresh Blueberries

Find the answers, ask the questions
Find the roots of an ancient tree
Take me dancing, take me singing
I'll ride on till the moon meets the sea
Loreena McKennitt; Night Ride Across the Caucasus

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fresh Blueberries

In amongst the blueberry bushes
philosophies dance within the mind;
as birds sing to their mates
and the winds make the leaves dance.
Our existence is defined only
by that which our hands can make;
and our lovers comfort us in silence
as we cry in fear from society.
The light dances in the flames
and our souls chase the sunset
only to discover that what is real
tends to be the imagination beyond
our philosophies,
and religion appears as a dream to the masses
while understanding illuminates
the few that choose to look
beyond the limitations of our presence.

EjG
--------------------------

There stands a row of blueberry bushes beyond my barn. In their midst I stand and pick the fruits while contemplating various thoughts within the silence of the countryside.

Thoughts of two unique experiences this week fill my mind as I quietly place the berries within my basket tonight: biking with a good friend and lunch with another long-time friend.

Biking took my friend and I into the State lands of Michigan; someplace outside of reality and society. She and I traveled in parallel amongst the trail. We spoke of life, trivialities, philosophies, and wonderment. And, sometimes, we spoke of nothing.

There is a symbiosis in our understanding that friendship and life are short and fragile; we both treat it in different degrees of respect and appreciation.

We are both looking for something more; something beyond here. There is much more beyond the limitations of central Michigan; and we both inherently know this, as we have both lived beyond the stifling confinement of the present.

She knows this. My wife knows this, And, I know this.

So she speaks eloquently of her travels; her experiences within the Canadian Rockies; the people she meets along the way. Her knowledge and love for life transcends beyond any limitations. That, in itself, deserves respect.

And I? Well, I can speak on the southern hills of Kentucky and Tennessee, my travels to the American Rockies, and my desires to take my family beyond the limits of Michigan. But, my depth is superseded by my fears. The crossroads are taking me beyond.

Now, today, I spoke with another friend over lunch—amongst body order ridden hip-bees of Freeland in a half-assed Italian restaurant—about literature, bikes, life, work, religion, and philosophies. He took my thoughts further beyond my bike trip.

A computer geek by trade, he told me today that he wished he could rid himself of technology and become a furniture maker. I think he will rid himself of technology and chase what is important in life; the satiation of the soul. There is something to be said about the fruits of labor of the hands.

You take away from those you meet and know that which would like to incorporate within your soul. Both of these acquaintances have traits and knowledge I wish to possess, not covet, but possess.

But there is something beyond all this. As I pick these berries, I realize there is a pure simplicity to life that transcends all the non-essential crap we deal with. Within my hand I hold blueberries, they feed you and treat your palate with nature’s sweetness.

My garden, just beyond, shows where the truth in existence may lie. A man without a home and land to grow fruits and vegetables is a man that relies on another. There is no sense in wrapping your being and soul in something that offers you nothing more than short-term successes and praise.

The mountains offer majesty and sustenance to the eco-system. Its glory is in its simplicity, as are the fruits on my blueberry bushes and the vegetables within my garden.

“Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.”

Dudley Dee