Thursday, June 10, 2010
"The Old Woman In The Woods"
The Path is quiet, so wonderfully still .As i make the first turn on the path , you join me . Together, we walk ,immersed in the stillness .We walk ( seemingly ) for a very long time ...no words are spoken .Before us is a fork in the road-one bears left , into deeper woods ,the other bears right to a wide clearing .Without hesitation we bear right toward the open expanse .We approach the clearing , and enter a wondrous dimension .Ahead of us stands a very old, very rugged log-cabin. The door stands ajar , as though waiting for us to arrive .
Quietly, we enter . It's the hour of the evening meal . The table is set for three people . Hand-Made mats must serve as beds - positioned near a small open fire-place .
A voice speaks from behind . We turn to find an Old Woman of Native American Decent, wearing a ankle - length dress; her hair bound in a single long braid . " Sit ", she tells us, pointing to the table .We do her bidding . Before us are cups of hot broth and flat Bread . She serves us hot tea, which has an unfamiliar, yet appealing taste to me .( All this in total silence ) After the meal is ended , she speaks , " Come . " We leave the cabin and follow her to a wooded area, and to a small brook .She kneels . We do the same .
Two squirrels begin to chatter very loudly . She smiles saying , "The chatter of the squirrel sounds like the chatter of human voices; and usually about the same thing- Whats mine is mine ,whats yours ..I want . If you are silent inside you , you can hear a sad kind of emptiness . Unlike the squirrel, who KNOWS he wants all the acorns, the human voice needs / wants something , but is confused about what it is , exactly .They want the acorns, but , cut down the tree, because it is in their way .When they finally realize the acorns are no-more, immediately it is," someone else's fault ."
The woman stands telling us the visit is ended . She walks with us to the fork in the road . We thank her as she turns back toward the clearing ...Both of which are no longer visible to us .
When we come down the hill , we ( both ), stop...amazed to feel something pressed into the palm of each ones hand ...A round , smooth Acorn ...