Remnants of an old gate stand stiffly here in the deep woods. Torn down for spite or for freedom I cannot tell. And what did this gate mark – I can see no buildings from where I stand. What did this gate hope to keep out? Or maybe keep in?
As with most wild spaces in America, there are signs of the uncaring – crushed beer cans in this instance. I’ll never understand how someone could stand surrounded by all this beauty and be calloused enough to casually leave your waste, tarnishing nature for all who come after you. I want to declare this part of our consumeristic society that sees things only as objects for our use and abuse. But I think the problem is deeper than that. We’ve grown arrogant, refusing to see our place in Nature, instead seeing it as a conquered foe. It’s why disasters like Katrina confound us so – it’s an uprising from an enemy we thought subdued.
Father, my body is hungry, weak and sore. My mind is unfocused. Fill my body with Your food, with Your strength, with your comfort. Clear my mind of all that is not You. This time I offer up to you – whisper your words to my heart. Lord, help me hear them.
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