Lost


You can lose your way,
even here among the poplars
and cool riverbanks,
especially if you don’t know
what you’re looking for.
You can wander mindless
through dead marigolds–
once quick-living tributes
to the unexplained,
to that force of nature
that bends us almost to breaking,
to that place
where you will stand in awe
or terror. You can follow
me through the garden,
past red-tipped peonies,
songbirds flattering
juicy trumpets, star-shaped
tributes to God’s pale hand.
Or you can rest on nature’s
laurels, sit awhile, enjoying
the freedom of not knowing
where you are.
 
By Carol Alena Aronoff
 


Carol Alena Aronoff, Ph.D., psychologist and writer, co-authored Practical Buddhism: The Kagyu Path and published Compassionate Healing: Eastern Perspectives. Her poems have appeared in Comstock Review, Potpourri, Poetic Realm, Poetica, Mindprints, Dream Fantasy International, Beginnings, Hawaii Island Journal, In Our Own Words, Theater of the Mind, Animals in Poetry, From the Web, Heartlodge, Tiger’s Eye and Out of Line. She received a prize in the Common Ground spiritual poetry contest and is a Pushcart Prize nominee. Her chapbook, Cornsilk, was published by Indian Heritage Council in 2004; her illustrated poetry book, The Nature of Music, and an expanded, illustrated Cornsilk were published by Pelican Pond in 2006. Her Soup Made the Moon Weep was published by Pelican Pond in 2007. Currently, Carol Aronoff resides in a rural area of Hawaii–working her land, meditating in nature and writing.