pasts? presents¿ futures?

My room is the aftermath of a tornado; trying to make room to organize all the stuff I use (which is now lying all over the floor) I pull all my old stuff out of the closet, wardrobe and desk. Now my floor is covered in piles of the ancient and the current.

I found this, written on a ripped scrap of paper when sorting through things:

"A little too abstract, a little too wise

It is time for us to kiss the earth again,

It is time to let the leaves rain from the skies,

Let the rich life run to the roots again

I will go down to the lovely Sur Rivers

And dip my arms in them up to my shoulders.

I will find my accounting where the alder leaf quivers

In the ocean over the river boulders

I will touch things and things and no more thoughts

That breed like mouthless mayflies darkening the sky,

The insect clouds that blind our passionate hawks

So that they cannot strike, hardly can fly.

Things are the hawk's food and noble is the mountain, Oh noble

Pico Blanco, steep sea wave of marble

-Jeffers "Return"

reminded me of you, Elena

-Jullianne"

Seemed to me to really correlate with my most recent blog post.

Perhaps the state I'm in now is partially a reaction to being entirely immersed in abstract ideas (majoring in philosophy) for a time.