Ode to My Future Dog (day 3060)

You little rascal,
You little gem,
Thanks for turning around for me.
Thanks for spending your waking hours
Nipping at my heals,
For your companionship,
Your loving nature,
Your time each day as we watch the sun
Folds away the mysteries
That work their way inside our heads
Like the folds of skin so stretching
Upon the neck of your growing being.
My friend, my partner,
Hello in there,
Thank you for sharing with me.

In This Moment (day 3059)

I’ve unlocked the post of my field
The damn bookend that holds the seal
Has gone away with the morning hues of red.
I walked out into the winter storm
To feed the animals inside of me
A broken button healed my heart
And two burners boiled my water.
So just as my ticker has begun to tock
I’m whispering my odes to oaks,
I’m dressed in my Sunday best
To forget the truth of tomorrow.

Gold Tear (day 3057)

I cried gold tears I had come to know
No more secrets inside this heart
Pure intention overcame my thought
A long lost truth and a button loose
On the esplanade of my everglade.
Growing reasons to never shade
All this time that has sped away,
So the tears they come and fold my day
Like ancient seasons always fade
In a grown up field and apple trees
Fruit of touch and the little seed
Waving in this midday breeze
And my luck caught in a tear.

Solitary Sadness (day 3054)

I am sad
For I have not closed my door,
I have left it open to the world
That climbs and claws
To its desired height.
And my skin has begun to bleed
Where once it was supple
In rash and scale,
Blueberry wine.
I am sad
And my glasses haven’t fit
Since I sat boldly
At the ocean’s edge
Wishing I didn’t feel this pain
And could not see
Ocean’s spray.

A Stamp That Became Postmarked (day 3052)

I wrote your name on an envelope
That closed and sealed with my mark
Long, long, short, two dots and two curves
A stamp that became postmarked.
I wondered there how long it would take
To find its way into your hands,
Would it arrive bent, curled?
Stained from a leak in a roller?
I wondered how high it would fly
Inside the bowels of an airplane
How cold those bowels would become
In spite the warmth so inscribed.
I hoped my meaning would be understood,
That my script legible,
And that each word that you would read
Would be read just as I had spoke.
And most of all, I wondered if
The return address would be saved,
So that your unique letter
Would be sealed
With a stamp that became postmarked.

Calling Home (day 3046)

I wrote a letter calling home
From 2000 kilometers away
Wishing all that read out loud
A happy day as well.
For I was writing from a home
I’d found out on the road
With a companion I knew by name
She smiled at me knowing so.
She wished me a goodnight each night
Just as I shared with her the stars
That made our night sky so bright.
I wrote home telling them all there
I wouldn’t be home as I’d said,
For I was lost into her arms
Just as I’d hoped I would.
But not to worry about me more
I’d be along in due time
For many plans still waited for me
Many tools still called my name,
Many hours at what I yearned to do
Would soon be my willing hand.

Weight of the World (day 3043)

How do you manage the weight of the world
When the weight of the world is too much?
When the birds are all sent to the sky, flying
By the dinosaur bones floating through the air?
How do the trees that lived for ten thousand years
Live for thirty years rotting in a house?
How does a landscape dug up, bulldozed around,
Erected with skyscrapers of metal and glass
Placed on the land held sacred for generations
Now become meaningless and void?
Perhaps it’s become a subject of cultural appropriation
Us humans and that of the Gods,
Powerful mother Gaia and her wiles and subtlety
And a grandiose sense of reality.

Dirt and the Saints (day 3041)

I sat there understanding nothing
No question to my mind
Yet sorted out was a figment
Lost in a region I wouldn’t dare enter again
For I had fought that battle
Recklessly
I had lain that flying Dragon down
With my Sword I had wielded mighty
Patiently sitting
Understanding nothing
And staving off the thoughts
That raced around mine head
For inside of them
Lurked what voices I had yet to recognize
Some surely to be Saints
Some no doubt to be Dirt.