Distracted by a Field

by Rich DuBose

I was on my my way to self management,
Where efficiency rules with precision and rigidity;
Where production is king and spreadsheets have the last word.
I was on my way when suddenly I was distracted.
Are you kidding me? Distracted by a field?

I was doing fine until I saw it, out of the corner of my eye,
A wispy patch of soil with fuzzy boundaries,
Filled with Pointed Ligule, Annual bunchgrass, and wild Rye.
Such undisciplined dirt shouldn’t be able to captivate me like that.
Isn’t monetary success more valuable than untamed dirt?

What can Shepherd's Purse and Mallow do for my future?
How can the random patterns of nature feed my soul?
How can Brittlebush, Yarrow, and Black Sage give me security?
And yet, I am drawn to the field’s ragged edges and windswept soul.

Without explanation I am absorbed by the mundane nature of nature.
As crazy as it sounds, I am captivated by its Chlorophyll and light.
How do ordinary things like dirt and grass become so exquisite?
What is there about nature that derails my perfunctory pursuits?
Why do fields of Chickweed and Wild Mustard alter my priorities?

How am I so distracted by a field?

Rich DuBose writes from Northern California | Image by Petr Ganaj, with Pexels