Young At Heart

My Quiet Place

My Quiet Place

Where is it?

Why is it?

Is it just one Tiny Spot-

A Sanctuary for My Soul-

(which at times grows fatigued-

distressed-disturbed

By a sometimes Cruel World)

Is it in a Redwood grove-

Perhaps-

Carpeted with ferns and Leaves

Soft and Hushed-

Private from the Eyes

of All but GOD?

In a tall, tall Grove.

Standing Tiny and Dwarfed

By the Huge and Silent

Red-barked Trees

Hundreds - maybe Thousands

of Years Old

As Man reckons Time.

From High above.

From the Blue of Heaven

Come Rays of Light

Triangles of Light

Diagonally slanted

Toward the Dark Hushed 

EARTH

Below-

Yes - My Quiet Place

Could be There -

In God's own Temple.

In ALL OUTDOORS

I worship HIM

And count my many blessings -

Many Years Have I 

As Men and Women Count Time

But only a Flash of Years -

As the Gods count Time.

They alone know the Heavens

The Age of Stars

The Distances between

Tiny Gleams of LIght

In the Black of Firmament

Time and Space that has

No Limits.

They existed Before

And will exist After

Forever --

Yes - Friend - Amigo.

There is Peace

In such Facets of Nature

And One rests there

Becoming United with

The Trees - and the Sun

And the STARS.

Slowly - Slowly -

Gradually - Gradually -

The Outside Noises Cease

The Inner Noises Cease -

And One has found

His Quiet Place

Her Quiet Place

Again. 

And Now.

This is my favorite poem by my biological grandfather, Milt Forrest.  Today I visited my uncles and cousins (on my mom's side) and was not only thrilled with their company, but my Uncle Dave also gave me a book which he made about Milt.  It's filled with his poetry and art, and the story of his life and how it relates to ours (the grandchildren).  He died in 1991, two years before I was born, so unlike my sister and cousins i don't even have a vague memory of him. Apparently he lived in a trailer park on E. Cotati (where you are Nathan!) for the later years of his life.  *Flips through book*  His world was so different than mine... or was it?  No.... he lived in the same world I do, I just entered at a different time.  But as he wrote, there are things which existed Before and will exist After.  Seeing pictures of him as a boy and a young man juxtaposed with those of him in his last years, knowing that his colorful spirit is gone, i mourn this man i never knew but who had an influence on who i am and what the world is around me.... 

It was neat to see my family, hear quirky family stories and discuss where life is taking them.  All my cousins are so old! 18, 22, 24 (almost 25...)  *sigh*  i still feel like we should be in my uncle jamie's basement room playing video games and playing with all his little gadgets. We used to sit at the "kids table" at christmas, pick blackberries up on the hill, trip over Mary the dog (who would always lie in the most inconvenient places); Mia used to tickle me and I would laugh....  But the house on Mirabel is sold now, and life has thrown different challenges to the each of us, pulling us inexorably down different paths.  But in my heart the five of us will always be there....

We were all so young.

Like Milt Forrest was at the beginning of the book.

Now they're all growing up.

I'm growing up too.