Thomas Merton said, "There are people who think a thing is real only if it can be sold...a thing is actual only if it can be put on the market." But here, everything in Vasily Polenov's Golden Autumn is gratis — for free.
Our first good mother, Mother Earth — her wild blueberries, blackberries, raspberries,
all her gifts for free.
The orange-gold display of birch trees,
the renewal of breezes and winds — offered for free.
If these clouds carry rain, they will drop it for free.
A meteor shower as well.
The great swaying oak,
still leaved,
offering shade, clean air and acorns, for free.
Are there songbirds in the forest, of course,
with iridescent wings; iridescent song — offered for free.
Fish in the river with silver-y stripes and spots — their shining for free.
Forest-fox and squirrel, brown bear and deer,
their beauty and mysterious presence for free.
Sun's rising and setting, casting shadows, shines for free,
The river, its weaving; its reflective wetness, streaming for free.
The diagonal path worn into the ground,
(no one has thought to build a toll booth on it) —
the earth-gift for free.
Even the shadow cutting across the path
offers its texture for free.
In the morning there's dew on the grass
at night, the phasing moon, the constellated stars,
for free.
And the Christic-monks who inhabit the hilltop monastery,
who absorb all of this nature-gift,
return the favor,
offering their welcome and prayer —
for free!
