The tranquil place
had caught my eye,
one day, as I rambled by,
and I resolved to come again
to bask in the murmurs of the quiet brook
and breath deep in contemplation, and perhaps,
read whispered passages
midst glints of sunshine sparkles – in green –
and breezes on my favorite book.
But the path, as it turned out,
was hard rock steep
and wildly treacherous to cross
and the trek to Shangri-La
more akin to the Ancient Mariner’s –
without the albatross –
and not, the in-harmony-with-nature traipse,
that I had pictured, getting there:
all the more impeded
by the book I lugged –
to say nothing of the chair.
But, at last, I crossed
the Great Divide
and came to that perfect place
where . . .
I contemplated – like mad –
a way . . . of getting out of there.
“It is in vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with tranquility: they must have action; and they will make it if they cannot find it.” Jane Eyre (Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë).
photos: Tranquil Place – W. Bourke
© 2013 Wendy Bourke