Here is a poem I wrote a few years ago when Forgottenman and I were driving through Iowa. Since I’ve never put it online before, thought I’d share it with you for Open Link night.
Farming the Wind
We pass a typical Iowa still life:
huge augers sipping the liquid mass of grain
from one of a trio of huge silos.
In the background, a cell phone tower
repeats the scaffolding over the corrugated iron silos,
mimicking nature’s patterning.
Twenty miles farther down the road,
we come upon other Brobdingnagians:
dozens of giant peace symbols rotating in what looks like the still air,
belying the motionless trees in their foreground.
Here nature fuels our technology in ways
that do not so obviously kill us
as petrochemicals or nuclear domes.
In clusters of evenly spaced rows,
the skeletal giants turn in graceful circles,
chronicling the passage of currents that carry the energy
that enables us to watch, cook, travel,
regulate temperature and communicate
without leaving our chairs.
We each become so comfortable in our close world
that we atrophy– venturing out less each year
into the world at large.
What does technology exist for–
to carry us forward or hold us back?
To destroy or support us?
The hugest irony of existence is that
everything is continuously changing:
movement to stillness and back.
Once stopped, will we ever be cognizant of this again?
Ever able to carry our wisdom forward from life to life?
This wind that blows us forward
also holds us back.
Which is the truth, which the contradiction?
These thoughts move
through our minds like the currents through the air,
bringing us to whatever truth we make of them.
This is the truth I find: Each thing contains its opposite.