Back Porch with a View (There’s just something different about her)

Mundane to those who just can’t see.

common things?

solitude
a mighty meandering river
bluish mountains-eternity blue
mist weaving throughout
drawing it all together
in a symphony of perfect cohesion.

Common things? No.

I crossed the threshhold that led to true vision.

the veil momentarily drawn aside.

my new eyes could see inward as well as outward
all time
the great spiral

Past memories-Alaska’s immensity and abundance
A northern land, the most beautiful of all, wild, untamed, unconquered by man.
Flaming sunsets of mango hue.
Salmons swimming like a thick soup, leaping fiercely in their fight to spawn and die.
Bears rumbling by too near, seeking salmonberries, oblivious to our fear of them.
The land haunting my soul, mountains and water in breathless proximity.
Blue everywhere, in every shade, deepest soulful blue.
Present sensations-the odor of untainted air, the sight of landscape uninterrupted by concrete, the quiet understated sound of nature quietly going about her usual business. Water and mountains also, just smaller.
Future visions-desires to live in solitude and stillness in a remote spot in the wilderness.
All these combined to
enliven every cell.

My shrivelled city-starved heart began to swell,
combined with those mysterious chambers of the mind rarely used
to temporarily transport me to heaven’s shores

I deeply inhaled the aroma
of time, nature, the great healers
which transcend all else.

Then came the summons from the large window behind-
a knock, was it Tana or April?
They both deny being the guilty culprit.

“What is that crazy girl doing this time, all by herself again?”
(Why on earth would anyone voluntarily be alone anyway?)

The veil swung back into place.
The fragile visions disappeared.
Left me,
Just human again.

Christina R. Witkowski