Farming is forever humbling
Awake into a day that never ends
Time forever reminding you
That it stops for no one.
Death surrounds us
That ceaseless burden of seasons
At once begun and thus ending
Bringing with her death, decay, rot,
As well as growth, shoots, greenery
Catching and holding on to
Each ember of light
Allowing it to stay alive
And if, for some unseen reason
Light decides to shift away
Blocked out by some larger tree
Or shifting season
It is the humbling reminder
That our time is as once fresh
And mingled so tightly with death
That in the event our labour slows
A creeping natural chaos shall ensue
Taking hold of every dream
We ever dared to live towards.
And when you think that the day is done
When the sun has gone down
And invisible snipes roam the skies
Processing, dishes, last checks,
Predators, water,
The day is never done
To give you one last breath
Before you close your eyes
And say goodnight to no one
Since all have already found rest.
Category: fatherhood
Twice
I’ve walked twice through this field
The first time was to clear
What had taken hold of my empty thoughts
The second pass was to remind myself
Of each burden I had come to lift,
Of all obstacles I have seen come and then go,
Of muscles and sinue of my body that has once been broken or sore
And now which holds me strong,
Of grasses and trees I have been graced to come to know,
Of each changing season that has changed my soul
Just as one changes their choice in clothes,
And when I returned to the spot I had started from
For I knew where I had come from
I knew I was once again
A changed man never to return
To the same footsteps I had just walked.
The Way You Used To
You don’t look at me the way you used to
Soft eyes, like you were a bit mystified
By my approach to life
Or maybe it was my life itself
That intrigued you.
You don’t look to me the way you used to
Photographs I remember you in
A bikini I haven’t seen in a long time
And a smile that could drive a mad-man wild
I remember that as we lay.
You don’t need to look the way you used to
We’re milder, softer, settled,
Together comfortably with a purpose
A vision of family and future
That holds us tight as we say goodnight.
You don’t know me the way you used to
Now you hold my hand with intention
Setting rituals of togetherness, wholeness
And connectedness that those photographs
Never held.
You don’t look at me the way you used to
And I love the way you look to me,
Though I don’t remember much about
The young man I used to be,
I know the meaning and purpose of
The man I am to you.
Little Strawberry
Little Button
Little Strawberry
So squeely and happy
This joy you do bring
To my every day.
When you’re crawling away
So mischievously
Your panting excitement
All dirty of knees.
And when our sweet day
Starts waning away
Noises of such softness
I wish I could keep
Remind me gentle
Asleep there you lay.