Lost and found my Saving Grace

Stairway to heaven is still there and I am wondering how it squares with a belief like “swear there ain’t no heaven and pray there ain’t no hell.” Let it ride for another one time around the block, two times around the clock, three times to cross the road, hey hey. Winter still threatens but bright blue skies seen through the skeletal limbs of birch and cottonwood preclude the onset of snow, though it looks deeper higher in the mountains. The eagle has returned to the huge dead cottonwood on the river bank, watching, ever watching. In the yard leaves need raking, that tree is only half bucked up waiting for a chainsaw repair, but there is no rush, plenty of firewood remains from the last delivery, and is now dry enough to make good heat. The road to work is still visible in daylight though the sun is low enough in the sky at that time of day it necessitates the use of sunglasses as the drive is mostly straight at it. Overall, it is a world of waiting for something, anticipating with no clue as to what is over that horizon and not all that sure about wanting to find out. Aimless wandering back and forth with the edge of the flat world out there somewhere and not at all interested in going over, when the stairway seems a much more enticing option. And, Danny in Tortilla Flat out there in back with his chair leg screaming, “Bring it, Lord.”