Moon at Midnight – Part III (day 1977)

(part II)

When I saw it, I slowly pulled my arrow from its quiver
A practice as natural to me as walking
Without hesitation I had one full meal,
A warm meal that hadn’t been had in two days
My diet primarily consisted of berries and roots
So plentiful on this wild land
But frequently supplemented with unsuspecting small game.

Before my knife entered the belly of my meal
I thanked its Gods for their offering
For helping to sustain me on my journey
For helping to return the vigor into my body
So necessary for survival
And with every bite my heart and soul filled
With a return to this earth
And I was reborn again, new.

It is eerie the silence after a feast
Such powerful voices circling around
Escaping, collecting, gathering, burning
It’s like a dizzying kaleidoscope
Caught up in a whirlwind
Mixing with my own heart screaming so loud
I walked along in silence for quite some time
Thinking about the changing seasons
And the cold that wasn’t far behind.

It comes naturally for me as a human
To push on, push forth
Push to get to a destination known
But when I see my next camp for the night
I know it without hesitation
And sometimes it comes before
Warmth of midday sun has a chance
To burn its brightest spark
And I take off my pack, sit down crosslegged
And observe the land all around.

I learned long ago that land speaks to me,
It tells me what is behind that tree
And what is under that bush,
It shows me where to look
Before what I’m looking at is there
The land shows me how wind swirls
And leaves bend off of branches
It shows me the light tapping
Of two giants married by force
And light nutshells crackling as they fall
From heights stored in safety.

There is nothing else that is as perfect
As these moments of pure clarity
Yet behind every breath
Reins the loneliness such a journey entails
Which the heart never expects
But always knows is there
And I pulled in this deep sadness
With my breath as it flowed
Memories that showed me how to move
Like a teacher that had kind patience
As I sat as a pupil learning.

part IV

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Spoons of Sorrow (day 1959)

When I walk into an empty room
When I reach my palms for the sky
As essence, I’m a ghost
And sunrise brings tomorrow
With ten thousand spoons of sorrow.

I am a prophet in a rose
With two hands tied by thorns,
Fence posts painted white
Along dew kissed morning lawns.

When I sit amidst thousand year old trees
When I wave crookedly in heaven’s winds
My heart becomes a dead leaf
Integrating so effortlessly into a path
Dust to soil to earth to spring.

So long shall my stalk bend
Two ends of a hemp string crossed,
Seeds falling on gray wood
And harvest moon is my birth.

Tracing Blurry Lines (day 1844)

My eyes have become the blurry vision
Of what they once used to see,
Fading sunlight in a white-washed
Washing machine.
The deck has become stained
With forgotten footsteps,
Leaving only smears
As marks on my mind.
And I delicately touch rough bark
Encircling our plum tree,
Tracing lines from hither to tither
Like the vision I once used to see.

Tracing Blurry Lines by Ned Tobin

Once Again, In Bloom (day 1806)

As seed took its flight
From the palm of my hand
I felt a cloud
Receding from my heart,
Deep as I remain.
I knew what had been
Had come again to us
Not to tarry as long
But definitely sent
To help us on our way.
If you dared close your eyes
And listen to early summer breeze
There was, singing sweetly,
An apparition to remain.

Can you call me one more time
Like so many times before?
Can you share your wisdom
To help my youthful pride?

If I should waste another breath
I shall not hold my stride
That you so valiantly kept,
Like gale force winds
And secret glimchens
Upon your heart so clear.
Like every day that’s come again
You brought your soul divine
To bask in changing season
That always stopped to overtake.
You recognized that as a robin comes
A sparrow and bluejay shall too,
You knew that purple pansies grew
As humming bird feeders drew.

Your wind called out where we all heard,
Your wind amidst our sails,
Your peach upon our fruit trees,
Forever once again, in bloom.

My Arbutus Tree (day 1789)

I’ve wasted the jewels of my heart
On my arbutus tree, left
As bark peels my solemn movements
Into a windy road
Lightly misting with a dark mystery
Of dusk setting in
After a long day traveled.
I cannot see for the light,
I cannot hear for the wind,
I cannot feel for my fingers
Have started to scratch too idle
At my knees, left
So bare of a kind woman’s touch
And settled on my mind
With gnarled wisdom in the spine
Of my arbutus tree.

Night of Day (day 1788)

I want to be a casual memory
I want to be secret and unheard
Laid deep beneath the chestnut tree
Put to rest with one last kiss.

I want to flutter the winds in leaves
Shaking loose what’s left unhinged
I want to be a lingering note
Reverberating about your echo’s glow.

I want to hurry storm away
Leaving daylight to spend my way
Into a blissful harmony,
Deep into the night of day.

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Initials (day 1753)

Your heart laid there
Wrapped securely to an old oak tree
That had two initials carved deep.
Your heart was calm,
Reminding me of silent moments
I’d hold my breath for
Watching a little robin
Bounce about the clearing
In search of daily food.
And the midday sunlight
That lofted my thoughts
Towards an overused chair
And a cold beer to ease the pain
Of those two initials intent.

Like Fire (day 1732)

I do not enjoy this closed solution
These open arms like fire
A road well worn in a town well shorn
And a voice long gone raspy.
Do you try so hard
To make the wolves howl loud?
I’ve seen a tree grow straighter
Then your twisted mind
And I’m closing down
This memory
That’s holding onto me like fire.

The Song I’ve Never Sung (day 1701)

This is the song I’ve never sung,
A lonely tree in the meadow
My faith watching it snow.
Because something isn’t clearing my fog,
And I’ve done up my boots too tight,
And the bridge is falling to it’s knees,
And some will cry as I’m walking on by.
But count out blessings in a well worn palm
With two bluejays resting a while,
Strange mountains silence is broken
And darkness slowly lifts as awareness shifts
Back into what I’ve never left.