Why am I condemned to something I cannot feel
I cannot arise
For in gold there erodes depths of cast
My hands have dried and begun to fade.
There is something that has grown
Not allowed to pursue
A lingering touch held too long.
Without light
Day at once ends
Cold sets in
Song remains silent
Heart enters slumber.
This is not the answer nor should it be left misunderstood
Gods carefully listened but none took action
Forgotten and dead lay the bushel of corn
Raspy, hoarse, brown
Thickening day lay low
And Divine Interpretation was a plan that could not be laid
For dead leaves had fallen and no new growth was expected
Until the decaying layers of slumber departed
Swift onset of thaw set in for another season under her breast.
For this I shall save
My last innocent breath,
A welcoming insight
Of two parts become one.
I shall forget what has never been,
What has torn at me,
What has floated free,
What has carried our distance
Unbeknownst for so long,
I shall not be blinded
By our history.
For this I shall save
My last innocent breath,
A chance of starlight
Emerging upon me.
It is for this that I shall wake
From slumber and deluge
Sprouting of new life
Upon the trunk of ancient ilk
Upon these paths formed
Carrying my thoughts
On towards you.
For this I shall save
My last innocent breath,
A ceremony of mine
Just in time.
(part IV)
The waning gibbous that night
Had nothing impeding it’s projection
Into the palm of my hands
I sat for a long time watching
It’s shadows across the meadow
I recognized how colours, now dull
Made for an entirely different landscape
I understood new energies
That floated about in midnight glow.
I feared reaching out, touching tufts of grass
That set aside momentary worries
I feared moving should it startle
What slumbered in the vicinity
I feared making a sound
For it should surely echo for ages
Like smoke signals at daybreak
I feared breathing to vigorously
Should my heartbeat change the hour
To a warmer beat.
I sat cross-legged
With my blanket closely wrapped around me
Slowly hunching over into my sleepy legs
That wanted to sit aright, erect
But my slowing thoughts calmed by thy moon
Let me feel comfort in falling backwards
Into the fur covered ground mat
That awaited my simple slumber
Assurance guided me there
When I reached for my nearby pack
An unreasonable yet simple reassurance.
I awoke with the same comfort I had fallen asleep with
Yet yearned for more time with that powerful moon
Watching the fire curl around its victim
Provided some of this amazement
And as life slowly flooded back into my body
I accepted the passing evening’s mystery
With an abundance of life all around me
Eager for my wandering pathway
To lightly pass through, eager eye open to all
Eager heart open to adventure
The journey was in every moment,
Not to be held for singular moments.
With the familiar motion
I swung my pack comfortably upon my back
With momentary shifting
Aimed to soothe each grumbling bump
Night’s slumber had produced
That, once assembled,
Found me beyond
What I had previously called my home,
Once again upon this road
Through magnificent giants,
Expansive ferns, soft mosses,
Sprouting mushrooms, drooping lichen,
And countless birds singing me hither.
(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.
A cloud pulled at my ear lobes
And took my tingling nose
To an open pasture –
Exposed and sunken into slumber –
Tip-tapped drearily by menacing trinkets
And coo’ed at softly from a shallow hallow
Where an owl waited for midnight’s feast
With an impatient air.
Your delicate drops
That drip about my window
Waking my slumber
Shaking my cobwebs
Keep rhythm for me
My heart finds
Its speed again
While curious crawls
Across steaming
Bits of wooden jungle
Sun beckons
Warming exposed skin
Like uncurling leaves
Surviving off stray beams
Feathered fellows
Sing one another
Delightful passages
Freshly reciting
For days full of life
And you say to me
Goodmorning
Whistles that fly through the night
Restless in nights slumber
Crossing paths deep within the mind
Empty pillows
Unfinished passions
And the constant buzz
Floating through the room
Train wheels, floor board radiators
With the slow drip drip of time
Windows fall lonely with the setting sun
Gold shadows are cast through the valley
And yellow tipped leaves sitting on trees
Balance the deep evergreen with the
Dying grass, splayed deep into the horizon
And with the deep fall night falling heavily
the mist at the East end of the valley rises
As if gyros were actively spewing steam forth
From its guttural bowels in sighs of relief
One moment a deep gold descends upon the valley
And in the next breath an early evening dusk
Settles itself upon the livestock that graze
The giant fur stretch their arms wide
Before they fall into a long nights slumber
The bird awakes as the dew is still fresh
Clinging to the little hairs that sense danger
Shaken at once to ensure all is still alright
Wouldn’t that be something
To set oneself into flight upon a new day
And find out too late about failures
All along the country side
The other little birds also wake
Repeating the same ritual from evenings slumber
Through the valleys it is heard
Such music that only nature can create
Like splashes deep within the forest
The birds morning is always in chorus
Perhaps the other wild animals
Rely upon the bird for mornings glory
Perhaps they also revel in the song