Death (day 322)

Death stalks us around the block
As we shop for groceries
Death watches us sleep
As we dream of unobservable sums
Death clears our doorstep
On a windy fall night
Death finishes off the card game
Late in the early hour of the morning
Death cheers at the finish line
As we develop our muscles
Death encourages us
Standing in line for lunch
Death crosses the street
On our way in to work
Death sings a song
As we lament a bad deed done
Death cries wearily
At the doorstep of our sins
Death dances a fine jig
On the mantle of our success
And death holds our hand
As we march forth into the waking eyes of a new day

[I’ll miss you Ted]

One Houndred Days (day 302)

We paddled and paddled
For one houndred days straight
Neither rest nor sleep
Was our friend all the while
We came about falls
We came about rapids
We came about bears
Finding winters warmth flapping
We passed by the furs
Of the coastal regions
We passed by the spruce
Of the swampier interiors
We passed by the pines
When the river twined
And we never complained
For our destination inclined
Not a single soul to speak
Not a diverting path to take
No energy was lost
In the battle we fought
We all had our children
Our warm wives back at home
But our socks they were warm when
Our backs they lay cold
Our knit caps, they
So red and so bold
We paddled until
Our paddles they broke
Then paddled some more
With the spares that we towed
And then, in the distance
As we pushed through the night
First one, then another
Then tens of houndreds they did burn
The fires of our friends
The fires of our family
The first of the First Nations
As they sat along the bank
Celebrating their season in the sun
The drums we had felt
Many days before
A pace threatening saunter
A force for our driving
As we came to the landing
We were swarmed by the tribe
We had always come here
We would always return
We were family here
We were friends here
This was our home
The land of the free
And after we shared
With the children all around
We welcomed the tribes men
We embraced our dear wives
We brought out our treasures
We had bargained for at the market
One houndred days paddling
One houndred days to the east
They sang songs for us
They sang songs with us
We brought out our fiddles
And we sang songs for them
We danced through the night
And we danced all the day
We hunted with the men
And we slept with the women
But then, when we saw
The leaves turning colours
We packed up our furs
And loaded our pelts
Carved out our paddles
And sorted our gear
Sad and long faces
As the morning progressed
We paddled on silently
Into one houndred days to the East

Springs Night Air Thoughts (day 295)

A lonely walking along the springs night air
Has a traveler thinking about matters to beware
If ever there was a time for spewing melancholy
The drip drip drip of the morning dew would induce
Such a state of ephemeral excitement ensues
Leaving the steps slightly quicker
In a race against time to return home
Gather the tidbits of nonchalantly whimsical
Ideas that flow rather seamlessly forth
Did we exude the true meaning of all of our thoughts?

Shadows (day 275)

Cool nights like these are the ones that seek my own sanity
Deep within the pipe whistle that blares out these two toned ears
Like the sharp edges that cut this time so

Perhaps the shadows will be a bit more forgiving
With their loss of dimensions
All willy nilly changing to the motion of light
Sometimes here, sometimes there
Sometimes falling in a steady glow about your gaze
Transfixed into the lost souls that speak forgotten tongues
Yet work the windows like Jack Frost in the waking hour

Don’t mind that scratching sound now
Don’t mind those omnipresent shadows
Don’t mind the strange noises crawling down your spine
Don’t forget to say your prayers tonight

Repair (day 272)

Once in a while
When the sun stays out just a little bit later
The moments make sense
The days crawl along my palm
In the rows I’ve always known

And then, just like prior
The sun dips below the surface
All hell breaks loose
The darkness brings in misery
Strange, strange misery

Perhaps its the coolness
That invites what we’ve never known
Into our lives like a cool cloth
Perhaps it’s the cool we should fear
While out in the midnights air

Just as the last
And the future to come
The sun shines again
Holds on real strong
Hugs me, in a moment of repair

Flow (day 261)

Perhaps it was the presence of time
That hurt me so much, as it crawled over my skin
Wallowing in the little holes
I had no knowledge existed

Perhaps it was the pressures of yesterday
That wounded my soul, as it kept coming back again
Infiltrating my every thought
I wasn’t aware of tomorrow

Perhaps it was the sun waking up early
That shook my foundation, sprinkling my morning with light
Contracting my pupils
I didn’t realize it moved me so

Perhaps it was the water flowing effortlessly
That put me into motion, alerting me of it’s omnipresence
Allowing me to flow with it
I didn’t realize I had any choice

Desire (day 260)

Blown in with the leaves of time
Strewn out like paper discarded
Elapsed like the growing grass

But still there escapes no figurative talk
No lively-hood of lust that escapes the drivel
Onward and upward in a spiral inward
Left for the ransacking
Two lone bowls of fruit
Monotonous in content
But alive with desire in substance

And then the snow begins to fall
Pulling with it a breath of relief
Inward it seeks for that calming nerve

Lonely Visitor (day 247)

The day was washed out like a long lost romantic getaway
Open doors and dust settling on all the watermarked wooden desks
Somewhere, deep inside the cave lurks a spider
Ready to catch it’s next unsuspecting victim within it’s web
But, the lonely traveler, spooked by the dampness
Slowly backs out and heads another way
The lonely visitor will come another day