Tag: east

Moon at Midnight – Part XI (day 1985)

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(part X)

When we chopped the last block ceremoniously
I told Frank that I would be leaving the next day
His face immediately showed me
How much he had also grown fond of my presence
But we both knew that any longer
And my presence in the little house
Would be too well felt
And each day departing would be harder and harder
Though I suspect he knew less of this then I
For he wasn’t much of a wandering man
As I had become in these days.
He initially put up a fight
Talking about the oncoming Winter
And for me to be reasonable
I smiled through it all, and remained firm.

Amy made me a lunch pack
With enough dried meat and fruits
To last me a few weeks
I was eternally grateful to these kind folks
Embracing me, a wandering stranger,
Who came upon their doorstep one clear day
With open hands and a smile.

When I was at the edge of the forest
I stopped and turned back and waved
And they all waved back at me
Amy, Frank, Clarinet, and one of the dogs even barked
I had left Clarinet an old photograph
I carried in my breast-pocket
For her to remember me by
I gave in to my desire to turn around and wave
As I could feel them all hoping and wishing
And watching for me to do so,
A friendly and nurturing gesture I could admit
I walked most of the morning silently
East.

part XII

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Moon at Midnight – Part II (day 1976)

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(part I)

I woke to complete silence
Yet my knees screamed louder the murder
When I shifted them from slumber
Half crosslegged I had fallen backwards
Into sleep that left smoke trails
Through my dreams.
My nose was hiding itself from the cold
I looked searchingly at the fire
I could feel wasn’t even hopeful.

My pack was close enough
So I knew where matches were
But kindling rested beside my axe
Yet to be shorn from its whole
So were the tea bags that would slowly ooze life
Back into my cold frame
Easily forgetting the eyes of last night’s terror.

I made it a habit not to look back
When I walked away from yesterday’s camp
You don’t need that to remember what’s already known
Like folded socks in the side of my pack
I was well kempt and had a full bottle of water
And the industrious chipmunk
Was happy to see me go
Understood by the sounds of his chatter
That followed me along a path
I was making with my compass pointing East.

My first few steps always remembered
What yesterday so easily forgot
So I stopped and untied my shoe
To clip my nails that were growing healthy
It’s much nicer to put on warm socks
Then cold and wet socks of the first light of morning
And my pack jingled merrily
As I swung it back on.

Scanning the vastness was hard to comprehend
What had alarmed me so easily
The night before,
What creatures our dark mind magically creates,
And now looking back at me was salal so thick
No ghost could sneak through
And my heart reminded my mind
To believe in thy safety one thousand times again.

Slowly my breath found it’s groove
Steadily flowing with each footstep
My packs new bumps settled itself softly
And the world began to expose itself to me
With every step a new angle
A new tree fallen sideways
A slug neatly stepped over
An unidentified toadstool
A river softly gurgling somewhere in the distance
An obstacle I’d have to traverse.

part III

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Edges (day 1911)

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Off you go, into the North
Leaving me here all wrapped in alone,
I see the tender wind a blowing
Guiding you on your way.
All around green leaves are turning,
At first in yellows at the edge,
Then before I know to check my season,
Fully entrapped in brown as vivacious earth below.
This makes me think of how you’ve taken
Over these delicate edges of my heart;
At first you were sweet wind blowing
On a sunny, summer afternoon.
Then you started to set my edges
To warmer shades of home,
Until at last, I fell, expanded,
Into this palm you call forever.
And all the while, I’ve always trusted
An unerring cycle of our earth;
North to South, East to West,
Forest trails from here to there,
And as I turn my inner eye
(Autumn, Winter, Spring, and Summer)
I realize no matter the colour of the sky
It’s nothing, unless you are the colour of my home.

My Land | Chapter II (day 1125)

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It wasn’t long before I could see the dust kicked up in the distance from the pack I had been following. I knew they were hurt and could see it in their movement. They moved quick but I was moving quicker.

My long barrel could have taken them all there and then, and really it should have. I hadn’t time to be wastin’ away from the stead as I was.

I thought of simple things as I headed uphill; my fire stoked oven, hard chair, dust particles changing the hue of the room to match my lonely heart.

From here I knew a trail that tracked the edge of the ridge along the length of the valley. Before we were half way across I would be upon them with a vantage point to pick every single one of them off before they knew where I was. I was a fast shot, even with my long barrel.

I wondered how Tim and Casey Johnson were getting along, just East of my trail, just over the ridge. My trail ran North-South. I had come from the North and was heading South following this rogue pack of wolves that had taken two of my lambs. I was born a tracker, and these were my lands. The wolf was my birth sign, but my lambs were my right.

[note: to read the full epic track my land]

Bare Hands (day 998)

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When my sun rises over East
I sit at my bench and wait
And whisper to my gods in prayer
To bring me all their rain
So that I can find the strength
To hold my head high again
And if my bare hands I shake
That worked the earth for seven long days
Should hold in them a crying shame
Then it shall be for me, forever rain
To wipe away these falling tears
Before my sun sets again
From my bench I sit and wait

Cracks (day 893)

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There I was with a paddle in my hand
In the middle of the city
Lookin’ for my river
Heat radiating off the dusty path
Cracks running East to West
And a nickle and dime store
Spinning hot air around
Dropping beads of sweat off exposed refreshments

Ghosts were speaking to me
Sitting there on the boardwalk
On old wooden stools
Grass tooth-pics jutting out
From unshaven scruff filled chins
The lot of them
And me with my paddle

I just stared at them
Ignoring the patient sun
Grumbling away as if mid-day hadn’t already come
I couldn’t tell
Dazed as I was
Had it already come?
I checked my six shooter
And slowly turned North
Towards the fresh BBQ smell
And the slow sweeper
Minding the cracks in the boardwalk
Lookin’ for my river

I Believe You (day 717)

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I believe you
When you tell me I’m all yours
A full dance card
That I’m the best hitter
In the ballpark
The biggest and warmest hugger
In all lands around

I believe you
When you say my style
Trumps all Kings in the deck
When you tell me I
Intoxicate you instantly
That my shoes
Are the shiniest shoes around

I believe you
When you whisper in my ear
In the late evening hours
When your eyes ignite
With a passionate fuel
And your late night eyes
Glance at me once more, goodnight

I believe you
When the sun comes up in the East
And sets in the West
When the winds blow leaves down
From their perch up above
And when the chimes sing to us
As we sit side by side
Upon chairs of home’s front porch

One Houndred Days (day 302)

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We paddled and paddled
For one houndred days straight
Neither rest nor sleep
Was our friend all the while
We came about falls
We came about rapids
We came about bears
Finding winters warmth flapping
We passed by the furs
Of the coastal regions
We passed by the spruce
Of the swampier interiors
We passed by the pines
When the river twined
And we never complained
For our destination inclined
Not a single soul to speak
Not a diverting path to take
No energy was lost
In the battle we fought
We all had our children
Our warm wives back at home
But our socks they were warm when
Our backs they lay cold
Our knit caps, they
So red and so bold
We paddled until
Our paddles they broke
Then paddled some more
With the spares that we towed
And then, in the distance
As we pushed through the night
First one, then another
Then tens of houndreds they did burn
The fires of our friends
The fires of our family
The first of the First Nations
As they sat along the bank
Celebrating their season in the sun
The drums we had felt
Many days before
A pace threatening saunter
A force for our driving
As we came to the landing
We were swarmed by the tribe
We had always come here
We would always return
We were family here
We were friends here
This was our home
The land of the free
And after we shared
With the children all around
We welcomed the tribes men
We embraced our dear wives
We brought out our treasures
We had bargained for at the market
One houndred days paddling
One houndred days to the east
They sang songs for us
They sang songs with us
We brought out our fiddles
And we sang songs for them
We danced through the night
And we danced all the day
We hunted with the men
And we slept with the women
But then, when we saw
The leaves turning colours
We packed up our furs
And loaded our pelts
Carved out our paddles
And sorted our gear
Sad and long faces
As the morning progressed
We paddled on silently
Into one houndred days to the East