3 Poems About Pioneering Virgin Land and Building Our Cabin Home
“Beginning To Build Our House”,”Pioneering This Virgin Land”, “After The Heat of Working” Plus “Delight in Beauty” Transformational Poetry for the Spiritual Soul
JOURNEY OF THE HEART # 43 Wednesday March 29, 2023
Photo Credit: Chinmayan
PIONEERING STILL MOUNTAIN
One: Beginning to Build Our House
Building our house
On Still Mountain
On a high ridge
Above the clouds
And world of men,
I begin with
Carrying planks
And pier blocks up
The steep hillside
From cold dewy morning
Until misty night fall.
I wear a trail
In the leafy earth
As my feet find
The best places to
Step without slipping,
A trail winding
Up to the dream taking
Shape under my hands,
Hands guided by
A vision of the heart
That longs to build this house
No matter what it takes
To make the vision a reality
On this virgin land that has waited,
Untouched for centuries,
For the pioneer I am to come
To tame it and build a home,
Persevering through all obstacles
Challenges and difficulties
Until the dream has become real
And true in the time to be.
February 2, 1985
Two: Pioneering This Virgin Land My hands have become rough, Fingers cracked at the edges, A few cuts too In the building of This little house On this high ridge, From the carrying of stone Blocks and Timbers and Plywood and 50 pound boxes Of galvanized nails, 100 pound rolls of roofing, Boxes of tools and Everything else needed to Bring the dream into reality, Carrying it all, One piece at a time Up the steep hillside On a slippery trail. But I am not complaining— No, it is a great joy To feel the clear energy Rising through my body And illuminating my mind As I carry and dig And cut and lift these Castaway things I have gathered From many dumpsters In the faraway city, Which I am now forming Into this dream of a house. I love the singing of My hammer as it rises and Falls through the air, Striking a big nail On its head Again and again Until it is driven in And another piece Of the dream takes Its place among the many Pieces of the vision Of our home That will someday stand On this spot under the Spreading branches of Ancient oak trees. I love standing there Among the foundation stones And piers, knowing that One day I will wake up Inside this little house And rise to make a Fire in wood stove, While my beloved And children still sleep— And gaze eastward Out of windows that Still lay waiting on the Ground to be put in their places, To those faraway misty mountains And valley far below, Glad that I came here alone, At the cold and frosty Edges of the New Year To pioneer this land, To break the ground And build this house And cut the trails And make the space For our home That will come to life Only when the love Inside each of us is being Freely shared with each other, Until the rooms and This land resonates and Awakens and soars on the Wings of our love, making The little house that has yet To be fully born into Our forever home. February 3, 1985
Three: After The Heat of Working Taking a break In the cool afternoon, I sit on the platform Where our little house will be, On a folding chair, Gazing across the wide Wide valley at faraway Snow covered mountains Whose names I do not know— All morning was spent carrying More timber up the hill To this high ridge, That sits above the clouds, Counting the stacks of lumber To see if there will be enough, For tomorrow will be the Day when I finally start To build the cabin’s walls. The hot heat of hours Of continuous focused exertion Passes as I rest, while the Stillness of winter and this Sweet victorious Solitude sweeps over me, Watching one lone eagle Soaring in circles high Above the valley floor, Beautiful, confident and free. February 7, 1985
Photo Credit: Chinmayn
DELIGHT IN BEAUTY We delight in the beauty Of the butterfly, But rarely admit the changes It has gone though to Achieve that beauty. —Maya Angelou
Image Credit: Still Mountain Meditation Center
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