The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Story

He stood on the threshold of the mystic sunrise and teetered between the cold comfort of the dark room behind him and the vista that drew away his breath.  He rubbed his eyes and yawned, feeling the door-jam ache in the arch of his foot.  For a moment, he wanted to faint back into bed, but then he looked sharply out over the hills and the sun slapped him playfully awake with a beam striking directly upon his forehead.  And with this, a symphony of sounds flooded into his ears: first the wind, then birds chirping around him, a dull sound of an airplane overhead, and then the creaking of the door as he pushed through and stepped out upon the deck. 
He stood on the backside of the house where he had spent the last week in silent meditation and prayer - memories of these last days stuttered in his mind as he surveyed the grounds and with a joyful sigh decided this day too would be a delight.  He hardly knew where to begin, the trees seemed like Christmas presents, the fallen pinecones like tossed bows, and the humble dirt path like a table full of irresistible flavors to explore.  But although silent, Daniel’s retreat was not altogether unstructured, and so he sighed as he turned his gaze back to the house, looking to see if he could spy any movement inside of the others who would soon awake.
	“What is first?” he thought - “Mass is at 10, lunch at noon, and there must be lectures between.”  He wasn’t sure, but he knew the day would fall into place in good time.  Just then, a breeze blew across his face, whistling from the trees with a touch of temper.  Daniel turned and without thinking, jogged off the deck down the path, as if to race into the wind.  “Will I be late?  What about shoes?” - he shucked off the worry as he hurried on.  For between the trees, heavily laden with the deep incense of cedared scent, he found himself enraptured by reds and yellows and whites, flowers with dancing smells in a field of grassy swaying hay.  His heart jumped, and he looked up into the blue sky to see angel feet spreading a deeper perfume, rising beyond the blue into that darkness of space where noonday is black so that the heart is free to worship.
	He caught himself, and pressed his bare-footed toes against the hard earth.  He thought the soil would give, but it did not for it had been many days since the last rain.  Daniel understood.  Dare he lie down?  A moment could be an eternity and he would not be late - if life would allow it.  He sighed heavily, almost panting, gasping to breath another’s air, but the moment passed and shaking his head, he looked back upon the trees and decided to go back.  His head waggered low as he stepped back onto the dusty trail.  It no longer delighted him, but he was no less thankful, and with a sleepy smile he sauntered back to the deck emerging from the forest of his deep desire.
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©2005 Mark Daniel Milbocker  All rights reserved.