The Silent Pines

In a stand of fine, tall pines I stood

Bemused by all the unused wood

So very many multipurpose shelves

Could be made by the IKEA elves

All those shelves and all they could hold

Books and bottles and knickknacks untold

All crowded together there in my mind

As I stood among the silent pines

It was the silence that got to me finally

Quieted my imaginings and let me see

That the trees, all unused, just as they were

Were worth much more than furniture

We see potential and want to put a thing to use

But often, like love, it’s better to turn it loose

Instead of grabbing it like the handle of a tool

Or loading its back like some poor mule

Love’s not a mule, and a tree’s not a shelf

That’s what I remind myself

These days, when I catch myself thinking

Of whys, wherefores, and the purpose of things