"Nothing Wrong."

One of those little things in life that has always given me big inspiration is a solo drive, wherein I'm actually able to take in the scenery -- a little thing that is far too rare amid the modern 9-to-5 grind. Which, for me, has been on hold for the last 3 and a half months -- for better or for worse... I think the former, honestly. Sometimes, you just gotta take several consecutive moments to stop and breathe. To really take in the things that are always there, just waiting for you to embrace an appreciative moment, or several. As a resident of eastern Portland, OR, one of those perpetual blessings, presenting me with year-round opportunities for inner re-calibration and healing, is the Columbia River Gorge and the span of interstate that runs parallel to it for many miles. All of this majesty, like myself, resides on the stolen land of the Chinook (more specifically the Multnomah and Clackamas) Tribespeople, First Nation stewards of the land during time immemorial.

A well-timed, and dare I say Perfect, solo drive along this stretch of sacred land helped bring this poem to "paper." I hope it speaks to you, as the aforementioned inspirations spoke to me...

Nothing Wrong.

***

There was a time

Let’s call it today

When I had no more ideas

No more words to say

About what it’s like living

The way we must

At this historic moment

In our history.

There was only quiet

And my id tends to

Stress out in the silence

So I went for a drive

As the sun was

Starting to set.

Now at least

I know

Where west is:

Behind me

At this historic moment

Set it down

Put it behind me

For a moment;

Move this thing forward

Because driving in reverse

Only gets you

Bad gas mileage.

I’d like to tell you

What I saw

As the breeze blew by

Open blue sky

On every side

Wispy clouds drifting

Wing-like

Luxuriously defying gravity

Having no idea

Something is wrong.

If these fir trees

Could form words

They might say

That it’s been

A dry season

But at least

The interstate’s

Mechanical hum

Is much quieter now

And we’ve gotten to

Grow where we

Were planted

So that’s a plus

There is nothing wrong.

Then there’s the

Train tracks

taking a break

No freight to carry

A releasing of weight

A sigh of relief

Because they can

Hear the hum

Of the earth

Beneath their metal feet

Once more;

History tells us

That they too

Know which way West is,

But on this particular

day in our history

They might say

That there is

Nothing wrong.

The granite cliff face

Almost too tall

For its own good

Stands sentry

Monolith-like

Bathed in light

From the setting

Sun Behind me

And this face seems to me

To not take things

Lightly

To not sweat the

Small stuff

Which to it

Is every little thing

And therefore there’s

Really nothing wrong.

Drought season has

Sucked the river

Somewhat dry

And yet

If you let the quiet in

And look

More closely

A small waterfall

Still finds its place

Among the rock wall

Gifting the base

Of the cliff its soft

“I am still here” song

And so too with it

There is nothing wrong

And suddenly

There unfolded before me

My god,

Fields filled with gold

Flowers in full

Springtime bloom

Right on cue

Their impeccable

Internal clock

Telling the world

At full volume

That there is indeed

Nothing wrong.

And once again

The trees

They seek the heavens

With their tops

Slow, steady, no need to race

They’re using this time

For personal growth

So why shouldn’t we?

Go at your own pace

As the wind whispers

Through newly-green leaves

That there is

Nothing wrong.

Storm clouds gather ahead

Bathing the world

In a deep blue-grey

Drops of rain

Play music

On window panes

Explaining to those

Who will listen:

It’s okay to

Grieve, breathe and rest

Yes, take a nap

For a change

There’s beauty

In the stillness

Revelation

In the silence

And there is

Nothing wrong.

Sunset brings with it

The nightfall

Carrying Quiet

Effortlessly in its arms

A boon for

An oft-loud humanity

And I’m willing to

Bet my sanity

That the night silence

Will whisper

Sweetly

To me that

There is

Almost certainly

Nothing Wrong.

***

~OB.