Those Moments

I've not yet found a way to summon them
At will, but I'm grateful when they do appear;
Those moments that occur far too seldom
In my life, and always when I'm alone.

Scaling a gentle rise in an Illinois field,
Surrounded by billowing prairie grasses
That bend to confide their secrets to the breeze;
Following a trail into a North Shore forest
Suddenly hushed, as though fearful of my presence;
Or hiking along the Lake Superior shoreline,
Watching the waves caress the pebbled beach
Only to see them gently rebuffed.
They retreat, only to muster the resolve
To approach the indifferent land again.
This eternal ritual of sea and shore's
Unrelenting courtship and rejection
Lays its soothing hand upon my soul.

I sigh,
Breathe deeply
And as I exhale

My sadness
My despair
My bitterness
All my unfulfilled yearnings,
All my shortcomings
Pass from me for some moments

Until the glimpse of a plane,
The distant honk of a horn,
The far away bark of a dog
Or the intrusion of another human
Into the scene wrenches me
From these moments of epiphany.

I become resentful and sullen again,
Like a weed pulled from its nurturing soil,
Its naked roots dangling, futilely longing to return
To the sustenance that it had been plucked from,
Despairing as to whether it can ever find it again.