The Skeptic Contemplates A Landscape

The Skeptic Contemplates A Landscape / Joshua Alan Sturgill

Through the window is a meadow
Through the meadow is a wood
Through the wood there is a mountain
— might I climb it, if I could?

How the meadow’s wideness calls me!
Deep the wood in fragrant green!
How the mountain soars and plummets
— full of wonders to be seen

Dare I pierce the forest fastness
delve into its dappled lights?
Dare I dream I am a climber
— rising into beauty’s heights?

But oh! the window latch is rusty
The meadow likely choked with weeds
Alas! that forest paths are tricky
— I’d get lost among the trees

And who’s to say when I’d return?
Who’d guard my house while I am gone?
Or what if I forget my key
— the light left off, the stove left on?

Through the window — yes, there might be
Through the wood — well, so they say
Why take the chance, though? And besides
I don’t believe it anyway