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Thursday, April 1, 2010


A cabin perched on the edge

Of a view that overlooked forever.

One could see from a great

Distance for no man made structure

Was anywhere near it. We used to

Sit in our camp in the valley below,

Gazing up at it every night. The

Light from this place was like a beacon

Over acres of nothing, forest, watercourses,

Wildlife and weather. No one knew

Who owned it or why it was

Located in such an unusual place.

As children we made up stories

Concerning its history and thrall.

Now, we know this cabin more

Intimately. The events of our lives

Are connected with it almost

Like a fable or an old, embroidered

Folk tale. All our being has been in reference

To this cabin. At times it does not seem

Real at all, but a wayward star or distant

Fire, a spirit or a messenger of some kind.

Soon we will leave here and go

To this cabin. Our grandparents and

Our parents have done this before us.

We have been told that we might meet

Them there again. These stories are

Like a religion to us. We will go

When it is our time to do so; when

We are too old for other tasks.

How strange that a simple cabin

Should have such power over our lives.

We feel that our beliefs my be mysterious

To others. Perhaps different yet similar

Events may have such sway in other places.

We ask this only as fancy. Our hearts

Delight in such a fine mystery.

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