Ode to a Beetle (day 2278)

About the log you make your way
From hither unto tither
Zigzagging in ecstasy
Searching endlessly for something more
I see your contemplation gather
Like watching a lover at her joy
I see your fixed determination
Bringing each and every day
Like new sunrise
Like spring in floral
Your motion is forever calming
And as transfixed I remain so
Watching you to and fro
I watch you spread your wings
To find another patch to play.

Search for Peace (day 100)

I gaze upon this open lake
Gleaming as if shear glass
A log drifting nearer
From some distant bank
Moving, yet not at all that fast
Jumping, randomly, in unannounced grace
The fish seem to be feeding
While my eyes keep focusing
On the mountains that face me
For their touched by the setting sun
A mother, and two kids
Test the cold water
Asking many questions in the patter
I sit here cross legged
On two washed up logs
Behind me a squirrel does a dance
Three feet away, we look at each other
And share this moment in time
However I put it
He knows that I’m here
And the kids keep wandering nearer
The squirrel has got scared
The sun falls further
And I now hear distant trucks traveling
The beach is covered
With various sized rocks
Some one might call boulders
Others they are ground
Into a size
Fairly similar to the size of sand
Driftwood is here
Remains of human is here
And oddly enough, in this lake far away
From any sea, ocean, or salt
I find flying low
Along the banks
Dozens of white and gray seagulls
Gathered
In close knit quarters
Around the base of an emptying river
Perhaps they hold claim
To the butchered remains
Of the feast of some giant grizzly
Only one thing remains
And that is his name
For I have yet to witness
This beast of an animal
I’ve seen overturned rocks
Ideal fishing spots
Still, one shy ol’ bear
Now on to my side
The side left unburnt
Sit three long and slender rocks
They sit on the log
The same log that I’ve chosen
All laid out in a row
I can’t help but wonder
Which marvelous creature
Has decided to leave them hither
For me, I am beaten
A child of teen years perhaps?
Whoever it be, they’re safe with me
As I sit here and spy a lone albatross
The mountains over yonder
I’ve noticed as of now
Have in them a slight tinge of red
I think to myself
That it must be that beetle
That swept through this province
And further to the East (Oh Alberta)
Was it spruce?
Was it Pine?
Was it all those combined?
I wonder what shall come of these cliffs
My squirrel I do miss
I can see jumping fish
Smell burning wood
A golden array
A loon too has joined me
In my search here for peace

[alternate ending: This is the end to a marvelous day!]

The Start (day 65)

A new beginning starts at the end
A fallen log births once again
A cloud that forms, fades to mist
A sun that shines falls behind

And most of all
In powers of shame
I lie awake
Feeding the pain

A new day arrives, slowly at first
A yawn awaits with splashing exuberance
A blend erupts of the choicest fruits
A hoodwinked scallywag pokes out the door