Edge of a field
Just off the wood line
November leaves lie beneath
A grey skies wet snowy blanket
Bound in layers of cotton, snug
Comfortably warm
With the drone of sleet
Colliding with the few leaves
Still perched amid their trees
SOLITUDE
Brisk the breeze that
Reddens and chaps my face
Reminds me that I am alive
Sings to me of subtle beauty
And touches me with a natural smile
Grand is the power of my respect
For as the lovely Queen of nature dances
I stand captivated in joy.
Each moment
-Adds a leaf to the tree
Ever growing
-In height and girth.
Flowering in joy
-To mark discovery
Branching out
-In new perspectives
Autumn colors
-Covenant to wisdom
Solace of the soul
-In winters sleep
Seed laden fruit
-Propagation of success
Strength through adversity
-Rings around the heart
Anchored in truth
-Moss covered roots
Dance you
On the wind you ride
Silhouette against the sky
One missing tail feather
Still the master
Power of the thermal
Unfolding beneath your wings
Born to fly
Hunting to survive
Moment to moment
Innate prowling
No alternative
Yet
Unmarked time
Away from the nest
Away from instinct
Nobody is looking
Dance you
On the wind you live
Relatives by design
Sharing life giving ground
Acknowledging the differences
In a continuum up support
Weeding the foundation of unfamiliarity
Growing old together
Becoming one
Again the Creature has come.
Standing before me licking its teeth.
A Wraith of a Griffin.
Lean of sinew.
Rigid and sharp.
Quills not feathers.
Malicious not loyal.
Colored in flame.
Smelling of acid.
Bony spined arms
Uncoiling from the Mantis-like chest.
Ending each in a claw of nine unbending talons.
Long fingers like the shards of lightning struck wood.
Click…click…clicking as they sniff out anxiety.
My anxiety.
From yet another failed expectation.
The failed expectation that calls to this demon.
This Wraith to which I am bound.
Tied with a chain too short.
Never have I evaded its grasp.
Condemned always to its ill embrace.
With a single hungry claw
The Wraith captures the whole of my gut.
I stand trembling in its grasp.
Living now moment to moment
As the closing grip spews vitriol from me.
The talons move closer together
Slowly shredding my insides.
Anxiety, though, does not render like flesh.
And so collapses toward the center of itself…
No!…Myself.
Forming a black sphere of Doubt, Need, & Panic.
Tighter and tighter does the fell Griffin squeeze.
Blacker and purer does the sphere become.
Until I gestate with Feebleness and Regret.
I fear my stress reaved body
Will not survive the birth.
Φ
When the clouds turn to stone
and the harvest dies
the Savage Season begins.
Wind no longer holds wing
and the lightning flies South
it is the season of elimination.
Dearest mother Earth
hides her secret of life
and the mind rages against the soul.
It is the season of the cold Sun.
It is the Savage Season.
Φ
Arthur. Could there be a better beginning?
Bear. Hunter & Hunted, Aggressive & Passive. The paradox of Balance.
Castles. I wonder if the local government would give me a license to crenelate my house.
Deeds. It is not what you Think or Say but what you Do that has any real value.
Europe. If you have family over the Pond go see them. If not then go anyway.
Fire. Not a gas, liquid, or solid just absolute perfection. Is it not the most worshipped substance in history?
Gnome. Like the one that my daughter found living in the back woods.
Hildegard Von Bingen. Omni Vox.
Instincts. Listen to them they will not lead you astray.
Jog. It’s good for you.
Karma. Deposits are a blast to make, but be wary of wishes because they are withdrawals & are VERY, VERY expensive.
Lager. If you drink then drink well.
Mountain. I was driving down a mountain road one dark winter’s day during a blizzard. When the snow got to deep for the truck to push I got out and started on foot. When I got down to 4000 feet the snow turned into rain. As I looked down I thought, “Who would want to work in that?” I About Faced and went back up the mountain.
Nocturnal. The night seems to be more alive than the sun bleached day.
Ocean Kayaking. Grab your partner and doce-doe.
Power Naps. I’ll be back in ten minutes…
Quiet. Possibly the most underrated thing we can be. If everyone would just shut the Hell up and listen!
River. The River that bears the Canoe. The Canoe that bears me. I the bearer of the Fishing rod.
Solstice. (WINTER) We take down the outdoor chimes to let the Earth sleep in peace. Leave a candle lit all night out at the Stone to shield us from the long dark. (SUMMER) Wakeup and go outside before Dawn. Infuse bonfires, food and revelry. Keep it going until after Sundown.
Trees. Don’t think, not even for a minute, that the tree outside your window has any use for you other than as fertilizer.
Utopia. In my Utopia every one carries a gun.
Vacation. Go to Two Medicine Lake in Glacier N.P. Find Twin Falls. Just up from the bottom on the Right side of the falls is a dry rock ledge up against the water. Lay down. Put your hat over your face. Now begin to sleep like you never have before.
Writing. Like sweat on my skin are penned words to my mind. A purging fact of focused exertion.
Xylem. Waxing like a candle dipped in time. A new layer every year.
Yes Ma’am. Said low and slow. This one works every time.
Zeit. I never have enough.
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