My mind has become jagged
A Cliff with one soaring Eagle
Circling around and around
Just beyond eyesight.
Little plants grow here
Barely hanging onto life
Grasping what little Soil
Has fallen between the Rocks.
Barely does a Thought stay
For it’s brother begs attention
Ruthlessly asking for my step
Dare I not pass his way.
So here I step gingerly
Trepid and disoriented
Glancing above me, evermore
Dare I lose a thought.
List of my tarry
Lands in the sun
Full moon,
North star,
Wat Chomphu.
Listen to whistle
Banana leaf blow
Rest in a banyan tree
Little brother
Bestowed.
In the morning Lily told us
She had dreamt of an owl
And had spoken to it
She said it was dad
His name had been Night Owl
Who gave her a message for Willow
And she told us
He had said that things ahead
Were going to get dangerous
And that sticking with Joe
Was very necessary.
Mountain Chief came to us that morning
Saying he had dreamt about Night Owl, too
He repeated what Lily had said
That the vision was a strong one
And Joe was to be trusted
And so I was to be trusted.
I didn’t really know what to do
I had always been a believer
That a family unit was one that shared decisions
So I kept silent
Could I really forecast, prophesize
To give any sort of resolution?
I did reinforce to Mountain Chief
And to Lily and Willow
That I could be trusted
And if I knew anything, I would speak.
When I stepped out of the teepee
Many of the people in our family
Were waiting, looking at me
Expecting some kind of miracle
But Mountain Chief settled them all down
Laughing at them and slapping me on the back
He was a good leader, a fierce warrior,
A strong man
One I had no desire in challenging
A man who was my friend
And his honesty and consideration for me
Only affirmed my affection for him
A man who had let me into his home
And into his heart like a brother.
Willow, Lily and I walked to our favourite lookout
Where we could see the entire valley
And the distant snow covered peaks
We wondered how long it would be now
Until the snow came to us
We had our furs and were gathering food
But winter is winter
No matter how many campfires you have
It’s still cold to the naked skin.
When we came down we paused near the place
I had found Lily the night before
And sat there for a while
Trying to understand the energy of the space
Suddenly out from the canopy
Came a beautiful owl
With a wing span that must have been 3 meters across
It came straight at us
Then turned sharply fanning us
For us to see it’s full and beautiful wing
It floated down the clearing
And in to the thick canopy.
I looked up to wonder
How many years has your bark
Entangled your sinuous heart,
The very fibers of your girth
And timber, thick.
How long have you towered
Above the rest of your
Brothers and sisters
Reminding them through a good example
Of how big and strong they can yet grow?
And my mind runs along your vertical stripes
To follow the years of your growth
I count the markings
The lateral indicators
Of a healthy year or a false start.
And if I listen carefully as I stroll on by
I can hear you whispering my name
Reminding me of why I came,
And to whom I owe this poem.
With Israel and his son Concordia,
The Conquistadors contemplated anarchy;
“No!” Yelled the city streets
Against windows of innocent glassy puddles.
And thus the lost voice: Arbritage.
So from inside the ancient gold plated doors
Swashbucklers leaned on their pole called history,
Singing songs that rolled off tongues
Like français of an unbroken heart.
The two shook their secret handshake,
Clasped each a moon of waxing gibbous
Deep within their full hearts of innocent desire,
Coughing on fumes leftover from the army
Who had rolled through these streets
To a machine named destruction.
So who was left crying?
Not the lost brothers, silently creeping along
Dead back streets, poorly lit.
No, not the dead brothers waving rebel flags.
Not the flowers, forever resilient
To tumult and it’s darkness.
No, it was the stone covered city
And it’s sister: splinters.
Dear George,
I watched the twins go back and forth on the swings today,
It kind of made me feel sea-sick, like when I used to go high.
I remember it was always funner competing
Against my brother or sister to see
Who could go highest.
Did you jump off at the end?
Perhaps that’s why my feet get sore sometimes now.
Could you ever have dreamed we’d both have twins
When we’d first met?
How we’ve both become family people now.
I like the family though, my small bit of world
I’ve nurtured around me.
It’s different then a close knit group of friends
All keenly interested and active in each other’s lives,
But I’m influential all the same, and I like the closeness
We all have regularly. My whole world.
Do you also get this feeling with yours?
Duke, our little fox terrier is getting quite old now.
Do you remember when we first got him?
I was looking at the photographs of him
As a puppy the other day, so cute.
He sits and comes when called,
And when we go for a walk he’s always very obedient.
He gets along with the kids so well.
I hate to think of life without Duke, but we must brace for it a bit.
Hope you’re well George,
We all look forward to your visit this summer.
Sincerely,
Julie.
I want to swim in open waters
And feel sun upon my spine
As I practice aerobatics;
In time I shall take flight
With birds of sanctity,
Soaring with beautiful brothers.
Here I’ll claim my sight again
With an eye that sees it sees,
A heart that knows it beats,
A hand that feels it feel.
To a space that opens my chest,
My third eye to the sky!
To a lightness of my mind.
And the sun remains the same.
The other men were friendly. They would keep a wary eye on me. I figured it was given the nature of my looks, but they relaxed as time went on. The women who weren’t married enjoyed my foreign seeming ways, especially so with Jules.
I figured she was around twenty three. She had long sandy brown hair that she would keep tied up in a loose bun that came down as she was going to jump into the water or when she was getting ready for nighttime. To me there was something unearthly beautiful about the moment she let it down. Every time I saw her doing this I would stop and every time I would stop she would enjoy the moment a little bit longer with her hair, steady herself, then look me straight in the eye. Every time. Of course I would just stare back with virgin love in my eyes.
Her father had been a traveling doctor in upper New York. She had six brothers and one other sister. Only one of her brothers had joined her to come out West, who was noticeably younger than her. The rest of them had virtually abandoned the two of them after their father had fallen out of his carriage one dreadful night coming home from an out-of-the-way house call.
Tim, her younger brother, and I got along good too as soon as he noticed my gun.
Jules had attended King’s College to study what she called “Money’s Seb. Money’s make the world go round.” It was hard for me to understand why a woman who knew money would head West in search of something different. It also confused me why such a soft spoken and earthed woman would be interested in money. Perhaps this was part of the reason Jules and Tim had left.
[note: to read the full epic track my land]
Like I am laughter
I am sadness, it’s brother.
Cool wind’s a’blowing
Coyote’s howl
I lost my brother who shared my hat
And my sister who carried my coat
So I was left under the oak
Hoping the canopy would be my warmth.
But little did I know from behind the cedar
They were giggling and watching my plight.