The Beauty of the Impossible

11 02 2011

Tamias minimus (Least Chipmunk), Glacier Natio...

Pretty Amazing Little Creatures to Watch

 

As I was going through some files, I came upon this poem I wrote in the Fall about a chipmunk.  They are gone for the Winter, but I know it won’t be long until they return.  Maybe they are not gone; maybe they are only deep within the crevices of the wall resting.  As I read through this poem, I thought you might find it interesting to read.  Maybe it will take you back to a day when the weather was warm, there was no snow on the ground, and you were awaiting the cold days of Winter and snow…bet I made you smile on that note.  Just for fun, and a little pondering…there might be a nugget of integrative truth to contemplate…enjoy:

I watched the beauty of the impossible today.

…A small chipmunk tackling a large black walnut casing.

The casing was almost more than half the size of the chipmunk

And yet, he threw his paws over it, straddled it and ripped

Piece by piece, diligently…black chunks flew.

He slid off, mounted again, and never stopped his efforts.

He watched me watch him and yet he never moved

He never stopped what appeared to be the impossible

Piece by piece, diligently…black chunks flew.

At last the black pieces were removed.

He feasted for a few bites, still mounting, still picking,

Chewing, re-nourishing, and resting for the next step.

And once again, the impossible was achieved.

He drug, he pushed, he rolled…he rested

And yet, this little creature, took a big black ball of nourishment,

more than half his size and moved it more than four feet…four very long feet.

He secured it in his teeth and climbed up into the rocks

Nourishment for the winter, I suppose.

In it went, and out it rolled.

In it went, and out it rolled.

Three, four, five times out it rolled.

To me it seemed like a failure.

Defeat set in just watching him.

And once again, the impossible was achieved.

He crawled away, mounted another rock, sat,

And cleaned his paws, cleansed his tail and underbelly,

Sat contentedly, resting, breathing.

What was the impossible he achieved?

He walked away and let it go.

He let it go and moved on.

I am sure there are other things awaiting his day.

I don’t think the impossible was his unearthing the insides of that big nut

I don’t think the impossible was his moving it from one place to another

I don’t think the impossible was his lifting it into the rocks for storage

The impossible to me was that he walked away from the task undone.

It seemed like a failure of the goal to me.

He cleansed his paws, his being, rested, and breathed…

He moved on…to another adventure…another nut to unearth…he moved on.

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