Round Robin Hood's Barn 



I see the fierce grappling roots of trees and vines 

 that scale the heights. Sometimes, too, as the 

 branches lift, my spirit is lifted with them to the 

 open sky. In such moments, reality gives new 

 vigor to the mind's possession, freshens the color 

 that has faded in a winter's memory, and restores 

 a beauty that has blurred. 



No wonder that when I make my way down 

 a descending trail, I have no capacity for further 

 seeing — no, not even as I cross the bog for a 

 glimpse of the treasures that it holds in its black 

 heart. I have enough to carry with me out 

 across the pastures still filled with the warmth 

 and savor of the day. For what I have brought 

 back is the sense of security that springs from 

 great possessions; possessions not bewildering 

 in their novelty or grandeur, but rich by reason 

 of familiarity and the habit of past years. 



[173] 



