Hazy Acres: The Creative Practice of Ryan Boos

I sit there looking toward the water

Slightly moving about 

As it would 

If I wasn’t there

I see it anyway

Thinking out loud to the trees

My words are a dance

They move in the wind 

We are connected

Turning around in my seat

I hear footsteps 

Sounds of others in conversation 

While the birds sing 

And the squirrels bicker

Screeching with charm 

Turning back toward the water

I sit and remember 

Trying to be present 

Without the words from the past

Ones that stab and never seem to go away

Until I sweep them up 

Sending them off in the river

Asking it to become a rapid 

Breaking the bottles 

I’ve sent over the years

With all the messages 

With all the love

With all of me 

Even without answers 

We keep asking the questions 

Deep down 

We know we are the answer 

There is no one coming to deliver 

What we feel 

How we try to find it everywhere we look 

In the stars

Through the canopy 

By the water

Next to others as an offer 

To not know 

But to share in the unknown

Laughing with time 

As we sense it elapsing 

Through the mirrors 

In the faces of children

Our experiences 

They sit there with us 

We become a new season 

And wonder

What is this place 

How do I fit

Who am I really 

Why does this happen 

Year after year

Then I realize I am lost merely in a question 

I’ll never truly know

And this realization 

That I have 

Over and over again 

Is the meaning of life 

Questions we cannot answer 

We simply 

Find ourselves curious 

Which is our purpose 

And the reason we are here

I stand up by the water 

Without uttering a sound 

All is communication 

Everywhere