Rays leave the sun, absorbed into a leaf
Plucked from a tree here at Walden.

I am stunned by beauty, by nature, by earth;
Of creation and birth, soiled when all done.

Fragmented chatter burrow into attentive
Eyes, demanding attention and perceptions.

Thorough are the letters sealed with a stamp;
Slow, but deliberate—with words of intention.

The journal is the journey of the mind:
Boundless and mine, timeless in bind.

Ice cracks the lake like an imperfect fault
Of civil disobedience, authentic and reflective.

Truth is found within; beginning with me,
Thoreau, and the government to overthrow.