Edge of Me (day 2253)

It drops the edge out of me
Silence and methods and
Misunderstanding
I don’t know the cost
But I know the me
The truth in me
And it comes out in droves
That burst upon parkades
And spills into pastures
To edges of your existence
To be forgotten
Muted
Stumbled upon and missed
And closed.
A box being closed
Yet so delicately wrapped
And ornately carved
It is almost fit
It should rest closed
Yet each edge
Reminds me I’m still here
Resembling
A fifty year old maple
With buttons on my shoes.

Pastoral Views (day 2241)

Take me for a ride across
Sloping countryside
A river bend, pastoral views
Anglican church cemeteries.
Imagine if we could have
A baker’s dozen head of sheep
A flock to tame and feed with our
Four acre rolling range.
Our horses would be roaming, too
With healthy pasture grass
A good life for the lucky few
We’d ride bareback in play!
On Sunday’s we’d clamber over
Through the forest trail to
An ocean beach a short walk away
To laze about in deep rich red sand
In search of sea life washed up
Amusement for our childish minds
Every day till never end.
Then, towards the eve
We’d find our way
To our favourite perch where to
A book of tales would remind ourselves
How rich a life we do lead.

Dusk (day 2158)

This is the spark that sets seed
A jubilant setting free
A sunset beyond every sea
With a new day the grain that grows.

And if each sign these clouds do point
Expose a pasture fit for rose
Should a foot that heals the earth
Lay thin dust that bitter burns?

Nay, each dusk a seat be found
To hold each glass, a little worn
A ritual many should be warmed
At last, sweet moon, a gray cocoon.

Ode to a Valley (day 1764)

If I were an eagle
I’d be here, soaring free
Sweeping through your narrows
Upon gusts that never slow.
And if I were a rain cloud
I’d pass by every time
To feed this valley floor with
Water, for to see you forever full.
And if I were a hungry bear
I’d find my way to you
To feed upon your wild berries
And fish upon your stream.
And if I were forever wiggling
My white tail, bounding free,
I’d seek your meadow pasture
To fill my belly overflow.

wild valley near Faulkland, BC