Away and Within
At eighteen, it was an idealized freedom, a rustic time among trees, mountain vistas, the breath of sky and earth. Nature held me close to rapture. The power of an alternate ritual held more sway than an uncertain maker, raw euphoria rather than the negotiation of worship, and an unsettled reverence. We were, after all, free, flower children. The roar of Castle Creek and passing peers in Aspen. All the fixings for Meusli in jars. Bird song and a singing heart. In that illusory moment, I only received. Much later, I might learn to return the blessing.
My life in gardens —
Was it an escape?
Or deeper digging?
©Mary Ellen Gambutti 2019, 2026
A version of this Haibun or prose poem was published in the 1st issue of Human/Kind Journal, January 2019
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Missing you! 😊