observation

I read something in Walden a long time ago that continues to resurface in my mind. Thoreau asserts that to be a good writer you must first be a great observer.

I'm probably not so good at observing, at least not in any scientific way,

but I wonder if there is another kind of observation.

An observation:

that a picture wouldn't capture, but a metaphor would.

the kind of observation

where you see a moment like a watermelon lifted up and dashed upon the rocks--exploding.

Or maybe

when you feel the moods of nature bleed out from the sun like melted butter, and glaze the fields a golden hue.

if you just saw a watermelon lying cracked upon a rock you must have been distracted.

You missed it.

You missed all the waking glory;

all the vibrant buzzing,
constant swelling...
and release.

Look closely:

its a moment ready breathing:

steeped in season,

arc of reason

mirrored full and rounded fell--

fall;

stretch and coil

flattened moon,

rolling in...again...

filling sanded shell.