Dusty Paths of Past, Present, and Future (day 732)

Pull at me and listen closely to my hum
I rock to a rhythm, smooth back and forth
Like well worn arches out on the porch
A motion that wears deep through my history
Bled out my pores of hairy callused skin
Drug over years of toil and pressures
Mechanically pushing back daisies
That dust the path of the past

My story runs deep, like the mighty Fraser Canyon
Rocky cliffs and small tufts of grass
Where wild big horn sheep roam the hills free
And Native Americans corral beautiful salmons
Into their chutes in the fall for smokings
A lunch for colder seasons ahead
Natural processes retained for years

I’ve taken mighty rapids, class 5 with no portage
Straight on with my birch bark canoe
I’ve trapped many animals: foxes, cougars, and rabbits
Some I’ve let go, others I’ve tanned to keep me warm
Through colder seasons, six feet of white snow
And after the deep winter I’ve found high plains
I’ve run wild and free with jubilant glee
Roaring my wild head like a stallion: head of the pack
Then in my moments of charge and conquering
I’ve been run off the edge like a wild buffalo herd
Sent to my death in a natural community grave
One houndred and fifty feet down for a rocky death

My minds eye has seen a crowd gather around
Watching while others start to throw their stones
The crow has brought fortune to the lands I’ve crawled over
Where feathers flow downward into hands of the elders
Placing their wisdom upon whispers into the wind
Which I’ve caught with long glances, two eyes half closed
But my third eye, wide open and listening
For the words spoken into the wind

There have been days, with un-clouded sun
Beating down at my back as I push dirt to and fro
I’ve brought life to earth: strong spruce and tall fir
Long have I pushed a farm’s herd in early spring
Rain has fallen, in sudden flash thunderstorms
Flooding my lands all around I’ve been harvesting
Taking away my stronghold, my safety and security
Plummeting me to my natures own demise,
Struggling away at the fast currents I’ve been
Pulling at my senses and drowning in murky waters

Where long have I been lost out at sea
I’ve found one strong hand that’s pulled me out to safety
Laying me flat out gurgling with the breakers
But upon this life raft, this boat of grace
I’ve spoken with the winds speaking back out at me
It is not for the weather that I’ve suffered so
But from my own intuition I’ve led onward ho!
Aghast, the disbelievers have stepped back in horror
Striking fear of the lord in me with forced penance
I’ve cried long and hard for my own forgiveness
But left out details and implications of all of my dirty deeds

Tomorrow I shall build up around in the dirt all around
A castle so mighty, it will sharpen my eye
I won’t burn bridges others so voluntarily fry
For with help it is forward in direction I fly
Begin it with laughter, in good tune does fast work go
And I shall remember as it’s forever where I’ll die

Miss Flower Light (day 665)

Oh my stars and heavenly angels
I’ve fluttered down to delightful petals
Can you match my imagination in colour?
The garden, it’s fresh
Spilling over onto grass
Roaming over mountains
With one tiny seedling
And filling our noses
Of such sweet sweet nectar
Harvested in spells so thick
Even sunshine pauses here a while
With daisies, and pansies
Tulips and violets
Poppeys and bleeding hearts
Such beautiful glory
For my days on this earth
Every day filled with laughter
Tickling my nose and
Infecting my colour
Spreading my wings
As I take dizzied flight
Lost in such intoxication
That float me on
Into the day of love
Oh my stars and heavenly angels

aButterflyMiss Flower can be purchased here.

Our Dirt (day 505)

So now the grass has grown
Skies that shine down
Blow winds over the mounds
And we sing to each other
The love songs we’ve never been
Daisies grow hearty here
Where did we lose ourselves?

Seasons pass over like time
Distant in their monotony
Passive as they attack
Pulling at the tips of the grass
Searching for a better way
A life away, closer to the sun
And our dirt settles deeper

Gumbo (day 130)

A slow pulse that starts deep within
Reduced frequency, increased rumble
A pile of everything laid out to waste
A carrier frequency, pulling up the bass
Landslide that’s raced with all time
Records spinning and twilight winning
The dance isn’t over, the game isn’t begun
The words evermore, the length ever long
And daisies, pulling up from behind.