The Land Is Like Poetry: It Is

The Land Gets Inside Of Us; And We Must Decide One Way Or Another What This Means, What We Will Do About It.

For So Many Centuries, The Exchange Of Gifts Has Held Us Together. It Has Made It Possible To Bridge The Abyss Where Language Struggles.

When We Enter The Landscape To Learn Something, We Are Obligated, I Think, To Pay Attention Rather Than Constantly To Pose Questions. To Approach The Land As We Would A Person, By Opening An Intelligent Conversation. And To Stay In One Place, To Make Of That One, Long Observation A Fully Dilated Experience. We Will Always Be Rewarded If We Give The Land Credit For More Than We Imagine, And If We Imagine It As Being More Complex Even Than Language. In These Ways We Begin, I Think, To Find A Home, To Sense How To Fit A Place.

Have We Come All This Way, I Wondered, Only To Be Dismantled By Our Own Technologies, To Be Betrayed By Political Connivance Or The Impersonal Avarice Of A Corporation?

We Cannot, Of Course, Save The World Because We Do Not Have Authority Over Its Parts. We Can Serve The World Though. That Is Everyone's Calling, To Lead A Life That Helps.