Photo Cred: (1) | Updated: 5/28/2023
I wrote this poem last night after my wife and I finished watching the film A Hidden Life by Terrence Malick. Was obviously inspired by that, George Eliot’s famous quote (2), along with feelings I’ve had as of late about moving away from my current home in Colorado. With that, here’s the poem:
All I want is a hidden life.
A home among the wildlife.
With children and my lovely wife.
Free of the world’s own sin and strife.
Somewhere with oaks, redwoods, and willows.
In the mountains with rustling wind that billows.
A secluded solitude surrounded by all that grows.
Saturated by lakes and rivers where clearwater flows.
Populated with human souls, but not too many.
A quiet community that’s far away from the big city.
A rugged and serene terrain that’s both pretty and gritty.
Taken care of and tended to by a people gentle and lowly.
This is the life of my dreams.
A consistent desire and theme.
To be with the trees downstream.
Something similar to Eden it seems.
But I’m content with what God’s given to me.
Living for today and the tomorrow I cannot see.
Knowing that one day I’ll be as free as the open sea.
Whenever that may be, I know that Jesus is with thee.
If it wasn’t abundantly clear, I love and resonate with Terrence Malick as an artist. Him along with a variety of other filmmakers inspire me a lot with how I convey my ideas on the page. Using the communicative channel of story to share my thoughts. Also, cannot recommend his work enough.
In regards to myself, I’m battling my own calling and dreams. I’m called to be a bridge to differing groups of people. Not just the secular engaging with the sacred, but also the far off prodigal saints and those at the feet of Jesus. But I also have a desire to move elsewhere becoming a fulltime writer of fiction stories and non-fiction works. But contentment is the key when God’s answer isn’t no or yes, but wait. With that, Godspeed and Jesus bless.
- Free stock photos · Pexels
- “..for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.” ― George Eliot, Middlemarch
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