In The Spring

In the strong Spring runoff, mercy bubbles quite near the surface

In the leaves that open, hands reveal a secret

With the cleansing showers comes a joyful tear

With the longer days the sun performs an ageless miracle

By the swollen stream we sense the turning of the wheel

By the better light we see how long the road has been

From their many winter shadows now emerge the quiet plants

From their secret places come the creatures of the woods

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In the early morning there is sweet coolness still remaining

In your glance I see how much that you can feel it, too

With the help of Spring we rebind our dreams to the future

With the thaw, old leaves renew the soil that once sustained them

By the twilight we discern the changes from another winter’s passing

By the raindrops we can count every flower opening

From the smallest bud to the forest newborns, life recasts its magic spell

From a sublime cascading reaction the aspen sap begins to flow

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In the breezy shade of spruce trees, our steps are gently slowed

In the quiet of the forest we watch them at their prayers

With the energy of May's fresh sunlight the world restores itself

With the coming of each morning the earth is more reborn

By the time we start to grasp it once again, it slips away

By the raging creek we watch as the trout are awakened

From even small beginnings come wonders to behold

From quiet meditation reappear the things that every child knows

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In the last days of healthy frosts our aches retreat as our own juices flow again

In the prism of the morning dew there beckons all, a world that’s new

With the help of quiet showers something returns to fill its promise

With our happy smiles we walk and turn the hills beneath our feet

By the sunset through the clouds, both our thoughts are reflected

By the things that we hold dear, our vows remain unbroken

From us, the Spring brings forth the things that make this life worth living

From the time our eyes first opened, lent a grace both kind and gentle

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In the quiet of the meadow you can hear as good earth makes its music

In the heavy runoff you can see the richness of life’s passing

With the coming of the sweet grass, the elk seek a quiet place to calve

With great content we simply walk once more in gentle sunlight

By the spirit that animates these good woodlands we find our way once more

By the greatest fortune we can see the flowers bloom again

From out of the gray stillness comes a riot of colors like joyful singing

From this great upwelling do we sense a kindly deeper meaning

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Saving Grace

Tomorrow's come a long, long way to help you, Yes, it's your saving grace… Steve Miller

Whenever I came to the thought that I had at last seen way too much

          There was still her calm voice that just would not let me go

All those times it seemed too hard to stand tall for just another hour

          That wordless patience and her kindness, from somewhere, reappeared

When the darkness fell upon me and there was nowhere I could turn

          Came to me finally carrying gentle slumber and awoke me feeling better

In the grim silence that no one else could open

          A gentle nuzzle reminded me of the man I had to be

When I sat, head in hands, alone and full of empty desolation

          She came quietly and patiently, her hand softly on my knee  

As I thrashed about in the anger at all my waste and confusion

          I did not rely upon her presence and never realized what it meant

Despite my dirt and noise, sins, failings, mistakes and omissions

          Somehow that gentle quiet north light never left me for very long

In the great rush at foolishness that was the brief passing of my life

          It took too long for me to see her grace so perfect, yet only behind the scenes

Against all the odds and the heat, dust and the never-ending shouting

          Nonetheless, in interludes of quiet one knew, her gentle strength existed

Through all the years of stubbornness at the ignorance and destruction

          One sweet chord would always resonate when things were in their places

Looking back through memories windows now I see that light fell gently thru

          Hurrying in my pride I struggled and I floundered and she saw it all again

When it all turned black and I lost faith in everything, but mostly in myself

          Later came a feeling that was not a thought and a hope not born of reason

Awakened, as I often was, from restless dreams of my many failures

          A gentle presence glided in just before the morning birds began to call

Often when I summed up to little, the events and actions of my life, she came

          Asking nothing from me, saying nothing to me, quiet, yet so complete

Charging forward to unknown destinations, cursing myself and the world

          Never realizing the quiet web she spun so lightly all around me

Howling out my isolation in cold and bitter emptiness, I sometimes wept

          Now I am ashamed that my needless blasphemies broke her blessed stillness

Full of toxic hubris, I plunged on alone through my private weeds

          A sad, faint smile played upon her face, for she had seen it all before

Wasting time and resources and making lots of noise, I groped so blindly on

          Even then, for brief quiet moments, I caught glimpses of a different way

For many years as I wandered that knife edge of self-destruction

          She bore silent witness that I had learned nothing from other’s failures

Whirling like a nervous dervish and kicking up the dust, so I passed my life

          Believing that her scattered images were the only illusions that I held

Often would I try and escape through drugs and mindless recreation

          And she would merely remain in silence, waiting off at some safe distance

As I trampled mindlessly on things beautiful that did not defend themselves

          She stood in sadness to see if I, like others, would slip away in blindness

Sometimes when I could see no cause to find hope in my endeavors

          Later there would come a peaceful merest stirring of gentle leaves

Now I just hope I can restore bits of what I have broken and thrown away

          Maybe remain quiet sometimes, instead of always shouting hoarsely

And these days when it gets too noisy and acrid smoke is choking me

          At least now I finally see the uselessness of the silly rage that fills me

Seeing so much precious time gone by in empty bitterness brings tears to my eyes

          But I am sure that in all her grace and mercy, I need not be forgiven

Dogs and Fire

Let us but tame dogs and fire and we can start to make a decent life

We can take a cave from a bear or make shelters with mammoth tusks

We will paint ourselves with ochre and the other colors that we find

We can carve the spirits of our revered prey upon these deadly spears

The dogs will warn us noisily of the approach of any stranger

We can even eat the tender puppies when the times grow very lean

We will huddle together in the furs through the long ice age nights

We will learn to mark the comings and the goings of the sun and the moon

Our fires will light the darkness and bring terror to the awful beasts

We can cook the meat we obtain and warm ourselves in its glow

The dogs will dream and twitch between the fire and the dark night

The dancing shadows will release the mystic patterns out of our imaginations

The dogs will guard the children and bond with them in their play

The fire will dry the clothing without which we would quickly perish

The flickering firelight will reveal where to paint our pictures

Let the dogs eat the garbage that might well attract hyenas

Tend the flames with care that we do not lie frightened in the darkness

Teach the dogs and children to shit away from our campsites

Set them loose when we have cornered something very large

Reward them with tasty scraps as they lick their bloody wounds

Stoke the fire that we might gather round and memorize our history in song

Keep some water close enough that it does not freeze at night

String the beads and stitch the furs in the blue twilight of these long winters

Keep the dogs warm and fed that they help us overcome the starving beasts

Give us warm light and safe free time to make weapons, tools and spirit art

Let us gaze for hours through the flames into the mysteries beyond

Give us dogs and fire without which we crouch in fear and darkness

And we will have short secure moments to wonder at our own existence