Mr Jefferson’s Chair

You look inside
the famous man’s house,
at the room with a single chair,

a reproduction most likely
because it is unprotected,
a place you could sit,

and like the great man,
stare out over the garden
in thought or admiration

and you wonder, as you lower yourself
what great thing happened here,
aware

that most likely there was nothing,
that this place was a place of respite
not a place of great thought,

but instead where thought was released
to fly away like dandelion seeds
to the garden and beyond,

to the wild places
on the edge of the garden.
And sitting alone,

you admit the truth to yourself
that everything does not have a meaning.
Everything does not have a purpose

beyond what we choose for it.

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The picture was taken at Monticello in Charlottesville, Virginia. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom