Reading a book alone in the Redwood Forrest
On the observational scale,
I do sit here in the redwoods in lotus pose,
with a copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance
on a stack of logs next to me.
What is the catch?
Is that but the paranoid disillusionment
of the redneck hippies near by
just now learning that they aren’t the real rebels?
They are not heroes,
They can only dream of being such.
The true meaning of center,
of the power of human capability,
If only imagined,
that is all we are,
Then that is the best
and the worst
of our imaginations.