The Bridge (day 229)

The beaten down travelers
Traveled through swamps
Traveled through deserts
Traveled through the untraveled terrain
Until they reached the bridge

The secret to success
Lay in crossing the bridge
The valley lay deep
The river ran wild
And they faced the bridge

Awaiting the train
Of which never came
They sat day and night
Distanced from food
Comforted by the fire
And the gurgle of water

The hours turned into days
The days into weeks
The food started scarce
The food was now gone
Yet still they waited
For the non existent train

And then, like a flicker of hope
Streaming out of the distance
A lone whistle was heart
They travelers all heard
They waited in silence
Unable to move, unbelieving at first

But as the train moved along
Beside their ragged shoulders
They slowly gathered their camp
And began the treacherous pass

The little ones were silent
As they held their breath across
The elders acted knowing
As if they had done this before
But as the last of the travelers
Passed across at the end
They celebrated with excitement
Like they had been, come, and gone

Soon they had made it
To the destination they sought
They set up their tents
And led their mules out to pasture
Plots were then got
Land was then claimed
A village was sprung
On the other side of the bridge

Lost Lovers (day 227)

The wind sweeps through like the souls of lost lovers
Chilling the blinds as they flap lifelessly in the delaying sunlight
Spreading it’s thoughts deep amongst the floorboards
Littered with memories and superficial decay
Time keeps carrying the wanderers on
Further and further into the romance we only get little glimpses of
This is the distance we only know as silent observers
Holding hands with thoughts we’ve only dared read in books

Pigeons and Cows (day 226)

Crashing through gates
And countless fields
The pigeons and cows
Spread wide for desires

Scavenging wildly
Through cracks and shoots
Looking for sustenance
Like never before

And in one quick moment
The magic begins
A luck of the draw
With skilled inference

Perhaps a quick check
About the horizon
For oncoming danger
Lurking beyond

Satisfaction is impossible
The pursuit is relentless
Tomorrow will go on
Just as today has fared here

The Moon (day 225)

The halls of glory fit through these streets
Stringing up Gothics, and racing for tricks
Last time we settled down for a nice cup of tea
We were asked if we’d like some bottles of wine

How horrific it seems to be bothered for bliss
When all that’s desired is a little of this
Perhaps the young starlings will speak to us soon
With hope it will let us know we’ve come twice round the moon

Spins of Sand (day 224)

Energy flows about like the spins of sand
Gathering around nipples, digging in deep
Flow like the wind and breathe like the groan
Bring with me any source of desire
Collapse with me at the end of time
Completely filled up from the pursuit
Sharing, giving, receiving, becoming
You, me, we, in a long dip down and glorious endeavor
Warmingly sharing the space for forever

Forth (day 223)

As with all roads away
A route returns home
A life never stumbles
Without lessons infused
With meters along the road
Screaming stop signs and
Merge patterns
Green lights and red!

Go forth with the fury of horses
Lights on, overdrive engaged
Heed not the warning signs of truck trailers
Long turns and shiny rails
Keep your eyes on the lines
Keep your path towards the prize
Carry me my young sailor
Into the wind reaching this day

The Road Home (day 221)

After the alpine air has swam through lungs
Cleaned the soul with white crystal slopes
The road home is always long

Head swarming with white untouched snow
The rest, though, indeed is glorious
Feet in the air, recounting events

Times like these create bonds
Stronger than beers, stronger than words
Remember me, lets share bliss again

Powder (day 220)

It starts with a clip
Then follows by a push
Along the ridge
We traverse the face
Finding speed in
Little jumps for gravity
And then
When all seems to far and gone
When all boundaries have been crossed
The drop
Fresh powder filled turns
Eating up my presence
My full being enveloped in each turn
Swooping, whooping, and cruising
Until the trees are reached
Then, a galloping piece of radical history
Works it’s way through tight corners
Finding around blind trees
Little pockets of untouched glory
This never gets old
This will never end
This is the search that life is for