when we consider just who we are,
exactly where do we see ourselves?
as we step away and look back at ourselves,
are we inside a building,
surrounded by the stuff our fellows have made?
or are we at the top of a mountain,
by the great mother sea,
by a creek tumbling with it back toward the sea,
or in a forest with our family of plant and animal?
the very words we use might answer the question,
for if we say “outdoors”
does not our deepest self feel itself to be inside?
by Henry H. Walker,
inspired by Jack St. Clair
May 25, ’11
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