Dancing through the Kingdom of Joy
Alone, the rupture had a sentence
A package of unexpected buoyancy
Laid about thy path.
Oh, shame shame the clouds have come
Accept thy fate and look back no more
Forgive each breath you once deplored
Let run deep thy river’s mane.
Stepping aside, a willow tree
Called thy name twice in vain
But on the third day, as time began
A shift in conscience pulled at thee.
Then with a rod of sixfold and reel
Twang at last, the pauper’s gold
Gifting all that had been told
Left alone in a field of wildflowers.
Willow knew how to throw up the teepee
But I quickly learned how, too,
It was my first time
But with Willow and Moon Cow giving orders
It went up easily
We set up Moon Cow’s close by ours
And slowly we became acquainted with our new home
For the summer, anyways,
For now it was our home.
When we first stopped
And made our home here
Mountain Chief had sent out scouts
In every direction
To make sure that we were indeed
Not going to be easily found
Every second day new scouts
Would relieve the old scouts
And so it went for the first while
Without any event to note of.
We learned that in the two valleys to the North
About a 4 hour horseback ride
There was a small family settlement
Mountain Chief asked me if I would go
And introduce myself to them
So that they would know we meant peace
But also to see if they were friendlies
To see if they were friendly to Natives.
When I arrived at their house
I wasn’t expecting what I found
Truth be told, I didn’t know what I was expecting
But at any rate
What I found really didn’t seem normal
She was deaf and he was blind
They had a dog with three legs
And a son, well more a man they called boy,
That was a good two feet taller then both of them
And to my untrained eye,
Didn’t look a lick like either one of them
They all seemed happy enough though
And I got along just nice with them.
Her name was Sara
And it turned out that her hearing
Wasn’t as bad as one first thought
And what she lacked in hearing
She made up for in a delicious soup
His name was Bill, and he was an old miner
He had come West to the hills to find gold
And I didn’t ask if he had found it
But he did tell me he found Sara
And knew he had found what he came for
Sara had already had the son
By another miner who had taken her
One night while visiting the saloon in town
The young man’s name was Johnny,
Who they both called Johnny-boy
And just watching his hands work an axe
For firewood to get ol’ Sara’s stove roaring
One could see he was as gentle as a pillow
But as strong as an ox
Bill told me he went blind from drinking too much moonshine
And that was the last time
He touched the: “Gat-dang stuff. Pardon my French, little lady.”
I woke into a space
I could not call time
Magical fires burned
And mushrooms grew
Below thick layers of dewy moss.
I, the explorer,
The harvester of what could be
Looked upon the land
As opportunity to
Let loose all dear things
Go as I could plan.
Here the gold
Of my mind
Could leach its way about
As if a blooming grape
Out of a four year and scored stem.
To me it was the best I could
But in the end, I lament – misunderstood.
Like a diamond engulfed in a suave scarf
I rolled nonchalance, engulfed in Mars.
To be alone in a symbol of peace,
I had a golden cleft, a silver leaf;
A long row of butterflies
And I, wanting only to spread my wings to fly.
Easing words that did not become my name,
I reached a point to which I claimed!
And there I stood, as naked as death,
Where moments stood for my held breath.
Dear Maple, so sweet
Your heart is my nectar
To warm on the cold days
To taste and to glow.
But that’s not all
Of your marvelous fall,
For yellows and browns
And greens and oranges
And burgundies and maroons
And suns golden hues
Shall greet me in splendor
From your largest of limbs
From your gloriously iconic leaves
And float to the ground
In a rain of pure gold
For all to behold
And bow to your throne.
And in spring
When your life shall return
I anxiously watch each blossoming bud
Counted with pure delight
From the ground where I await
In the birth of your spread
In the mirth of your stead
As I enjoy what beautiful view
Always awaits by your thick
And porous and clunky trunk.
I remember the golden letter
I signed my last goodbye with,
A script I was particular proud of
With a rusty ol’ dipping pen
Tied up with lies and eternity
And how many times have I chosen to
Wave goodbye to you.
So I stuffed mixed emotions
Into a ball into my pocket
Sat on it for two days
And mailed it with no address.
I cannot see my emptiness
I cannot see my soul
I’ve lost the world
And settling in
I’ve begun to just let go
But pity thou
Who thinketh they
Can forge a path of light
With only fangs
Set for one
Darkness to all else
So can I see
Or do I fret
About yesterday’s chance
If I, for one
Could see this choice:
Empty my sun of gold
Weathered by the storm one night
I lay awake in bed,
Trusty steed loose outside
To fare for his warmth, amidst.
I’ve got a heart of gold and
I left my shoes tidy by the door.
Stayed up all night watching
Stars shoot through the sky,
And you told me twice that I
Had led you down the right road.
Now you come home and
Lay awake in bed,
Lay beside me when
Storm is on the ni’.
I crushed this wild ego
Standing there idle
Calling my weak spots
And shouting my way.
I listened for a moment,
That weakness ensued,
And here I grabbed hold
And crushed ego to gold.
Did you design the skies?
Did you place heaven floating
Amidst autumn leaves
And fleeting burning skies?
Did you button up cold birds
With warm woolly vests,
And marvelous plumage?
Did you gather piles of dead leaves
To spring board a crash landing?
Did you harvest pumpkins
Each of unique size and shape
To make my summer heart
Shift into darker hues of gold?
Well then, thank you.