Eudaimonia

I set out early, the frost at my heels,
The road unrolled in whites and broken fields.

The snow had hushed the hedges, fence, and pine,
The stillness stood and breathed the turning sign.

With shallow breath, hands finally knew the cold,
A bite as sure as cygnet’s flight foretold.

I thought of want the way one thinks of bread,
Of lack, of need, of mouths that must be fed.

I crossed the field where last year’s furrows lay,
Now sealed beneath the discipline of gray.

No seed will answer yet a prayer nor plea;
The ground requires a different courtesy.

A man stood watching near the boundary line,
His boots half-buried, beard rimmed white with time.

He did not ask me where I meant to go,
He asked me why my feet were planted so.

I said I wanted peace, I wanted more,
I wanted less of wanting than before.

He smiled and traced the snow with careful hand,
And spoke of harmony, not promised land.

“Desire must learn the measure of its need,
And courage learn when not to charge or bleed.

An unexamined life grows dim with use,
The looking glass won’t always show the truth.

Hunger, heart, and reason must agree,
Or grief will wear you like a livery.

You do not reach your purpose grasping fast,
But by the shape your daily choosing casts.

A life grows well when every part consents
To serve in love, and find it sustenant.”

The wind took up his words and carried on,
The field lay open; he himself was gone.