For They Would Rust (day 2664)

If your answers solved
What mystery remains between lives,
Where would our trial be held?
Where would we lay down our tools
Dear for this unquenched need
To work until our knees are sore
And our feet curl up at the seams
Of our understanding, our dreams,
For they would rust
Lost in a gaze of submission
Caught by the hand that pierces all hearts.
I would be lost
For I compete with a memory
Complete and detail oriented.
I ask not for your question,
I speak not for your silence
I read not for your passage
I hold not for your gift
I growl for your soul
That bites off what it believes it can chew
I snarl for your essence
That rips apart belief structure
And I cry at the foot of all you have become
For I know not how to unbecome
What I had never waited to be.

Small Places (day 2619)

I want to find love in the smallest of places
I have always hoped it would hit me
Square

It doesn’t it wont.

It tickles me when I’m ready and tries me when I’m not
It challenges me as if I forgot to bookmark
And I dont care if I reread pages
It’s a good book that was handed to me
By a friend I have always known well
And haven’t seen in a long time.

This is not sadness
This is scanning the CB radio for anything that’s not static
This is singing to trees and a dog
This is a thought while sitting in meditation
Along a river that’s as perfect as I could ever dream love to be.

And with raindrops comes new growth
And with hello comes a goodbye
That doesn’t have to stay long
Because memory is a uncontrollable gift
We each get a chance to retrace
Though shall never lead to the perfect day
But make vision in our hands
Clear as the sky we look upon.

Antiquity (day 2530)

Beyond the stairs we walked along
Beneath the wheel’s remains
The old Mill House, past Balmoral Lane
Antiquity remains.

I couldnt quite find a reason
To stop you, a look into your eyes
A wheeping heart we thought we spied
So luminous and full.

A plan developed in my mind
A gift of nature’s surprise
So I picked the lovely heart
And gave you my dear prize.

Postcard / Gift (day 2416)

I picked up a postcard today
With such delicate, serene beauty
I didn’t want to write on the back;
I didn’t want to scar the surface
Of the unmarked landscape.
I held the postcard in my hand
Flipping it from front to back
Not quite sure how to decide
Which side was for me,
And which side was a gift.

Lines (day 2244)

How many times must my line
Get broken in the sand;
Watched you walk away
Silhouette in the sun.

There I stood without a thought
Three magic coins in my pocket;
Make me lean against a tree
I have no more support.

Gifts of which the bearer has
Left without intention;
I look into a calming pool
Tracing out each line again.

Moon at Midnight – Part XXXXXXXI (day 2045)

(part XXXXXXX)

Sara and Bill were happy to see me
They said they hadn’t had any visitors yet this summer
And had none to expect
They confessed they had been watching a while for me now
Thinking it was about that time
That I’d be showing up,
If I were to be showing up at all
They had news of a few U.S. Army parties
Heading through these parts
Looking for some rogue bandits of some sort
Miners, they said, that had caused quite a stir
In a town about five days ride South East
Early in the Spring
We said we hadn’t seen or heard either of them
It wasn’t the group that Tall Pine and I
Had tracked the year prior that ransacked our home,
It is always a bit unsettling
Knowing that people like that are out there
Maybe watching us as we go about our day
Who knows what they’d do if they stumbled upon our home
Most likely they’d stay right clear
If they know what was best for them
We have a good number of scouts
Always roaming the valley who wouldn’t be
Too friendly to them, also.

We showed Sara the gift of our deer
And she was very happy to accept it
She immediately went to work preparing it
And Moon Cow asked her if she’d like us to set up
A smoke house for them to smoke it with
She said that she had heard of such things
But never seen one set up
And she’d be much obliged if we could show her
That was, of course, if we could put one together
With the little pieces
Of leftover wood that we could find around
We told her that wouldn’t be an issue
That all we needed was a few axes
And we’d be able to make it from a few fresh logs.

We spent the night listening to Bill’s stories
Moon Cow fit in just fine
Being a man of words, too
I think Johnny-Boy enjoyed hearing the stories
Moon Cow shared,
A culture I don’t think he has yet had
Much exposure to,
His life mostly living off the land
As they were now
And in mining towns
Like the one he was born in.

Moon Cow and I slept outside
We made a small fire
To keep ourselves warm through the night
I liked sleeping under the stars most of the time
It’s something that you get used to
And if you have just a few small luxuries
It really can become quite liberating
Traveling so lightly and freely
Especially when you’re carrying
Everything on your back.

part XXXXXXXII

You’re Perfect (day 1958)

When I say you’re perfect
I mean it from the whole of my essence
From my tingling toes
To each breath I excitedly (and deeply) inhale,
From my deepest lost fantasy
To each lightly placed finger tip
That crawls every imagination I’ve got.
Your perfection seeds my stillness
That captures me in your grace.
Your wrong is not a wrong,
Your wrong is effort in my eyes
That nurtures your blossom,
Imagination takes your fancy
And lifts your spirit,
Infecting me like a perfect vision,
A serpent,
A sun rising from the horizon
Inch by inch warming my open eyes
To the miracle of a new day.
Your perfection isn’t in your perfect action,
Or your perfect features,
Or your perfect voice or perfect success,
Your perfection lies within your being.
Your perfection lies within your effort
That dances as you know how to dance
Over obstacles and through conversations,
That listens and speaks and shares and fights
And bruises and hurts and feels and bites.
Perfection is you, not the sum of your doings,
It stays with you as you go,
And returns again tomorrow,
It follows you into your messiest of days
And shadows you as you run.
When I say that you’re perfect,
It doesn’t hinge on how you treat me
Or what you bring me as a gift,
It doesn’t depend on your generosity
Or how close you hold my hand,
No, I mean it without you even knowing me
And I mean it as you walk upon your path,
I mean it as you say goodbye
And wave me our last kiss.

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