The moment when, after many years
of hard work and a long voyage
you stand in the centre of your room,
house, half-acre, square mile, island, country,
knowing at last how you got there,
and say, I own this,
is the same moment when the trees unloose
their soft arms from around you,
the birds take back their language,
the cliffs fissure and collapse,
the air moves back from you like a wave
and you can't breathe.
No, they whisper. You own nothing.
You were a visitor, time after time
climbing the hill, planting the flag, proclaiming.
We never belonged to you.
You never found us.
It was always the other way round.
Margaret Atwood
(from Morning in the Burned House)
7 comments:
How beautiful, both words and image...
and how very true.
Yes, I echo what Laura has written. And, again, thank you. :-)
This sits very well in my heart, with all the patriotic flag waving for US's Memorial Day this Mon. I'm no longer a patriot. I'm an earthling.
One of my favorites! Keeps me humble :)
Reminds me of early morning on a certain canoe trip.
Love this So. Much!
Thank you for introducing us.
xoxox
Dalhousie Lake, a perfect lake for sunset paddling, and there is often a heron or three in the reeds, loons calling across the water...
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