We find ourselves by looking out at what looks back…
—Poet David Whyte in Lon’s Fort (Many Rivers Press, 2012)
As we celebrate the resurrection of the retaining wall out front,
meant to keep the dogs in and the water out, I take my daily walk.
Everywhere I look, I see walls…rock, metal, brick, vinyl, cement.
Some crumbling, some reinforced. Some peeling, some painted fresh.
Some leaning, some erect. Some clean and bare, some covered in growth.
Some walls are ornamental, some utilitarian. Some provide privacy, some protect.
Some are new; some are old…boundaries then, gardens now.
Some have spikes delivering a clear STAY OUT, some offer a deliberate way in.
Nothing says WELCOME like an open gate.
Together, the walls I see around me remind me of the the walls I’ve built inside me:
WHO were my walls meant to keep in and out?
WHAT do they look like from the other side?
WHEN did I build them and do they still serve?
WHERE do I let others through?
WHY do I keep my walls in place?
HOW can I reinforce them? HOW can I tear them down?
In the midst of all this, I see a wall doubling as a lost and found,
a pair of pink plastic sunglasses resting on top.
I wonder who left them and what adventure they were on.
I remember when our kids were young, the way walls inspired climbing, balancing, jumping…
simpler times for sure.
And so I walk on, a smile on my face, grateful that finding the answers isn’t always necessary,
that sometimes just seeing the questions is enough.
Lovely ♥️
As usual, beautifully written. I appreciate your writing.