Last summer, I attended a retreat in Wisconsin. Each morning, I went for a walk on the wonderful paths they had at the retreat centre. One morning, I felt I was being watched. I tried to only use my peripheral vision and not change my pace and gait.
After the rabbit slipped into the underbrush, I wondered what else I might miss in the hubbub of daily living. When I returned to the retreat centre, I jotted thoughts down and this is the result, several months later.
On my morning walk,
A slight movement on my periphery
I am being watched.
I move my eyes;
I try keeping my pace
I see it,
I am not on its periphery.
As it slips away,
What do I miss in what I call living?