Fewer things in life feel
As good as sharp steel
The power it beholds
With energy in every fold.
When the stone hits its mark
Every burr and nick removed
Ancient lines of pitted use
Tell stories no one can refute
To be used again ten thousand times
Steel and tool combined.
Category: farming
All of Them (day 2795)
Plant the seeds
Cultivate earth
Send in living mowers
Who fertilize
As they roam
To give back
As bio-available organics
That feeds seeds
Growing tall
Inviting insects
And more worms!
Solitude (day 2793)
He could not remain solitude
Friends emerged from all around
One found under a toadstool
One behind a thriving red spruce
Even as the day waned
A coyote came strolling along
Until at last, eyes tired and closing
The moon bid farewell and peace
Then all at once a new day began
A sun stretching over the horizon
And with it, a chorus of white breasted birds
To ring the day begin.
Cold Stream (day 2792)
When the wind blew at my door
There I was standing tall
I saw the drifts of snow gather
I heard the poplars clack together
And deep within my cooling heart
I heard a groan so vivid
It symbolized the burden laid
At the foot of my days toil
It symbolized ice cold water
Gathered at the stream
And every step upon
Frozen soil with a cold shovel
It symbolized the sweat that broke
Each sinew in my back
To which I closed my eyes tightly
Forehead resting on the window
Wind blowing at my door
Big Red Door (day 2785)
Frozen as the daylight came
Round up all night’s dreams
Float away; I’ve been lost so.
I cannot guarantee
That in my time I’ll remain:
Un-wound, un-healed, un-charmed
Open as this big red door
Dawn so re-awakes.
Growing (day 2783)
I don’t walk with a swagger
I’m not a callused hand
I don’t wish for stars
Or four leaf clovers
I sing with a guitar that holds a tune
But my voice is held under water
In a rusty tin can
So I sleep in a cold corner
With a sore back on my side
I run out of gas
When I’m driving too fast
And my knives all go blunt
So my pencils aren’t sharp
But I’m still trying hard
To grow something again
Each Quill (day 2772)
The eyes of terror struck into
A faithful servant in pain
What must be done, owner’s duty
Calmly, one cannot relent.
Each quill, each sliver,
Each painfully removed
To help a faithful friend in need
Until those eyes return to softness
Playfulness again,
A friend once more returns,
Tail wagging, trust returning,
Companion to the end.
Once Seed (day 2771)
Rage at the antics talking heads play
Forced to surrender, no other way
Lost is ancient, history’s gone
For a game of dollars, enemy’s way
Has taken our diversity
Plants natural genome
Genetically modified, organic no more
Infecting, irreversible turned our seed
Unrecognized, sterile, stale,
Yet to talking heads playing games
A patent awaits the honeybees bum
To take from the farmer lands that his hands
Have nurtured and worked,
Life giving no more.
/end lawsuit
Last Years Grass (day 2770)
Brown
Bent and folded
Dry
Bare and Strewn (day 2769)
Threaded so bare
A lonesome despair
Washed in the river
Of an unknown meaning
But torn from a branch
Left in the mud
Catching all grass
Upstream a flood
Carrying on
Carrying through
Stepping right over
Branches, all strewn.