Nothing Out There

Nothing whatever is going on,
    except the cicadas
    except bird voices
    except breeze in the pines
    and the long-missed sound
        of my breath, my heart,
        and my voice singing to myself.

There is nothing at all to see
    except sky and clouds
    except butterflies and wildflowers
    except tracks of deer and 'coon by the pond
    and scenes from long-lost memory:
        visions of plans and hopes,
        and my rippled reflection among reeds.

There is absolutely nothing to do
    once the tent is pitched
    once the firewood is gathered
    once the water is carried
    but walk without destination in green places
        and stand perfectly still
        and listen and look at nothing.

8/22/01, Dupuis Management Area, Martin/Palm Beach Counties, Florida

 Everglades ballad  In the Pines  Homo Pyrotechnicus  Watching the Shuttle  

The Purple Gallinule  Piney Woods  Sugar  Mosquitoes  Nothing Out There