Presque Vu

There surely has to be a different sort of life but we simply cannot quite see

For there were brief periods when we felt that we were almost a part of it

A different sort of time, now ignored by us all, in our frantic rushes

Perhaps it still flows somewhere, unnoticed in the background

There can be no guides prepared by any industry to help us catch a glimpse

Just as well as most of us run blindly, nearly all the time

Though sensed peripherally for instants, it is quickly shrugged away

And we are carried on again by this vapid stream of daily lives

Outside of the phony cacophony raised over shiny baubles that are held for sale

During the brief and quiet moments in which we find the time to think

Possibly there was a vision of lives based on a different set of values

Where the sounds of diesel motors do not awaken our small children

I might have heard of a place where one listens as birds call out the coming dawn

A place where a quiet people dwell who make a slow but steady progress

Perhaps waking troubled in the night, there had been a clue

Clearly, we had seen most issues but never known quite how to face them

Maybe sleepers such as we, out walking, stumbled seeing merely our own dreams

Sometimes almost wakened, disturbed as we lurched and cast about

It seems there might have been, at times, a message left in a shaft of light

Or some trace of meaning disappearing beyond a distant ridge

Was that it there in memories of quiet farms seen from the road?

Or did I see something glimmering in the sunset waters off that lake?

I wondered why I thought that I remembered things I knew I had never seen

I did know why the way I really lived had often lead to tears

There seemed to be a message in the snowflakes that fell from all directions

Deciphering such things might have helped me to grasp what I had felt

What was that which dissolved around the corner, up ahead in the dusk?

From whence came that comforting illusion of another people in other towns?

Perhaps it was not just some advertising music and the scenery of marketing

That message almost read which came on the warm winds of early May

Driven in a hurry with the other rodents, nonetheless, were there not some moments?

Just the same, sometimes a sense of calm - amid that great confusion?

Was there not the sound of quiet music almost played and just about enjoyed?

I think I may once have started to believe, but I cannot quite remember

Many times I snapped my head back but what it might have been, was gone

But, nonetheless, I even have the memories of what I thought I saw

It seemed always to be present in the ruins of where they dwelled so long ago

Something synthesized only in our minds, many came to believe

In the blue light of the winter it came so strong that we commenced to howl

Then, straining in our excitement, we absorbed the vaster silence

Beneath the green lake waters diving, something scattered with small fish

But left my head to pop like a bubble through the surface once again

Perhaps in the quiet of a pre-dawn coolness, I saw something linger

Totally forgotten or cruelly ridiculed in the harsh light of modern life

Sometimes it suffused the very air and my coat would bristle

Too often only half-baked memories lent me precious little comfort

Maybe when birds were singing and light first began to form new shadows

Still, roaring once again, that real and terrible certainty returned in full

Watching as the trout rose taking the peaceful twilight long ago in Spring

Brute repetition finally teaches us that there is but only one true way

In the first few minutes from a summit with a view not easily obtained

Too easily our minds simply return to their deeply-rutted track

In the velvet night, what was this spectral image that may have paid a call?

But wait, no doubt can exist regarding the time spent beneath the wheel

When the snow fell yet again upon older snow, was that some somber power?

The endless stream of empty chatter quickly brings us back online

Something that kept returning despite all of what I thought I knew

Somewhere I cannot take you, whereof we both know different scattered details

From a dignified spruce, boughs outstretched, in a quiet meadow

It’s very grace, for just a moment, the most palpable of things

What was that state of mind about? Brought on by gentle music

But quickly lost in the sweat and dust and the hoarse shouting of many days

Was there not a hidden message in the patterns of the clouds at sunset?

Maybe without all the other foolish distractions, I just might have discerned

We can only hope that it is not just a pathetic illusion or by-product of the hype

That a certain set of circumstances might at last bring it clearly to the light

Rainbow's Echo

Rainbow’s echo

          Rainbow’s shadow

Rainbow coloring cemetery flowers

Mountain’s voice

          Mountain’s tranquility

Mountain rising beyond smoggy city

Thunder’s greeting

          Thunder’s gift

Thunder tumbling across the sky

Sunset’s presence

          Sunset’s breath

Sunset freeing colors from onrushing night

Ancestor’s birthing

          Ancestor’s dreaming

Ancestors pointing with hands upon my shoulder

Boulder’s meditation

          Boulder’s history

Boulder sitting quietly for several million years

River’s shadow

          River’s thoughts

River forming from individual drops

Thought’s greeting

          Thought’s hoping

Thoughts gushing into the void from nowhere

Canyon’s breathing

          Canyon’s twisting

Canyon persisting through mountain building

Sunlight’s absence

          Sunlight’s fate

Sunlight sweeping horizons in each season

Rain’s voices

          Rain’s colors

Rain forming jewels wetting the grass

Music’s shadow

          Music’s direction

Music giving shape to uneven bits of silence

Silence’s voice

          Silence’s movement

Silence deepening for the odd sound

Love’s whisper

          Love’s question

Love permeating every thought

Night’s rays

          Night’s vision

Night retiring from its day

Echo’s shadow

          Echo’s fall

Echo rising with the doves

Sorrow’s pall

          Sorrow’s light

Sorrow muting every sense

Wind’s pause

          Wind’s burdens

Wind making music with the trees

Cloud’s shadows

          Cloud’s dancing

Clouds dreaming our redemption

Dream’s opposite

          Dream’s trail

Dreams evaporating with the dew

Fire’s crackling

          Fire’s twinkling

Fire making things all right

Wisdom’s glance

          Wisdom’s pain

Wisdom fleeing with the dead

Hand’s willing

          Hand’s memory       

Hands holding us safely protected

Leave’s song

          Leave’s dance

Leaves falling around us all

Lake’s silence

          Lake’s twinkle

Lake so comforting asleep beside us

Dog’s dreams

          Dog’s smiles

Dogs sleeping in the shade

Flute’s feelings

          Flute’s sensations

Flute wandering with the fingers

Child’s roots

          Child’s gift

Child seeing for the departed

Star’s whispers

          Star’s rhythm

Stars bidding us to a cold dance

Eye’s message

          Eye’s reflections

Eyes filling with recognition

Tranquility’s voice

          Tranquility’s honor

Tranquility declining to rule our lives

Moon’s message

          Moon’s warmth

Moon remaining all our short season

Winter’s shadows

          Winter’s calm

Winter joining us to the sun

Death’s grip

          Death’s passing

Death welcoming in its way

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

Eddies

After I saw myself upon my back whispering, no longer able to rise

          I tried to think back to the days spent gurgling in my bassinet

But the sun got in my eyes and all I saw was the dusty road I traveled

Climbing upwards, I lost my balance and there came a defining instant:

          For just a moment I fell backwards and balanced weightlessly

Then forces slowly tipped me back to the rock face, never knowing why

I left the stream of refugees and hiked up behind some sheltering boulders

          I closed my eyes and sleep overcame me until the stars came out

Now below me all was quiet and above there were unknown constellations

There came a black wind from the west that set the crows to fleeing

          The wide stubbled field offered no shelter so I just laid face down

I passed away as slowly as the twilight in the land of the midnight sun

Having no other option he choked me to death with his calloused hands

          Realizing there was no surrender I struggled until darkness took me

So many things were left unsettled but there was nothing more to do

In the misty pre-dawn hour after a restless night a calming dream arrived

          Arising tired but not anxious I look about for my family

My old wounds throb lightly but the war is now far away

The sun came through the beech leaves in safe and gentle golden rays

          The children splashed on the beach at the edge of the mossy shore

My great aunt had watched me from this spot, was it just now or long ago?

She trustingly placed her muzzle upon my knee as I stroked her ear

          She did not move as the injection flowed into her muscle

She sighed just once and looked up at me and then she closed her eyes

Years later stepping off the merry go round I no longer walked straight lines

          I sat down on the corner heedless of the filthy pavement

Far off a screaming ambulance drowned out the peaceful church bells

Awakening full of sadness I reached out and you were still there

          I had imagined the infinite time after our final separation

Grateful tears filled my eyes over this briefest, sharpest moment

It rained all night and increased at dawn and it grew very hard to move

          The stone floor was cold and there was no light to feed the shadows

You could not find your thread and my two-day beard was very gray

I dreamed I awoke tired and fell back to sleep to dream of dreaming again

          She grasped my numb arm and whispered that her time had come

When I awoke I was briefly confused as to our orientation in the car

We sheltered upon a carpet of needles beneath a giant blue spruce tree

          The snow fell so deep we could no longer see back down the trail

Now and again the wind caused a great branch to creak somewhere above

As we drove past the endless old factories you began steadily withdrawing

          Trucks roared and men in faded work clothes leaned on their shovels

The vast indifference slowly smothered my nervous hopes and dreams

Thinking something crept beside me as I slept I lay very still and listened

          A car approached and a newspaper thudded upon the driveway

Slowly I realized that my opponent had simply vanished once again

There remained three of us beside the garbage and the wreckage

          We had cigarettes but none of us had smoked for years

My hands longed for the tools I had used every day for such a long time

The women and children fled to the church of their baptisms

          Their neighbors called them out one by one with raucous ethnic slurs

They laughed without malice at the pleading of the one remaining priest

That school year was finally over and I walked home in frank amazement

          I could not know then that this present could become so long ago

Though the pictures are often black and white, I felt only vivid colors then

As I tried to bring the huge salmon to shore I slipped upon a rounded stone

          I flopped upon my side and felt the cold water fill my waders

As the fish escaped I wondered if he would still have the strength to breed

As I rode through the intersection the car lunged out to make a turn

          I braked too hard and skidded the bike and it tossed me in the air

Just before I hit the fender I noticed the driver drop her cell phone

As I watched the smoke rise from the burning leaves I felt safe at last

          My pursuit had ended as quickly and pointlessly as it once began

I took her tiny hand after drawing her red coat together and we walked on

The pre-dawn rain tapped the metal roof with a million tiny velvet hammers

          Now and again a rolling thunderclap gurgled slowly from East to West

It took me far too long to respond to these subtle signs of a larger peace

The old day laborer told me stories of the village where his wife still lived

          Sometimes we drank beer in the cooling but tired twilight after work

Someday soon he might get his green card and things would get much better

A gnarled root flipped me flying headlong down the chute towards the trees

          As I twisted violently I struggled like an animal and not a philosopher

Crashing with my skis into a tree I had time to ask how it had come to this

I walked the holiday streets alone, without work in a strange and detached state

          I only observed this vast diorama but could take no part in it

Then the cheerful woman collecting donations restored me to my senses

After three beers and a couple cigarettes the situation did not seem so grim

          There were always other bad jobs in which to begin anew once again

Some I would be fired from and from the others I would simply walk away

Upon my return the trees that I planted had grown quite tall and straight

          To many of the people I was this new stranger there among them

For many months I did not grasp the importance of their daily concerns

Though it looked substantial the trail crumbled as I walked out upon it

          I slid sideways with sand up to my knees and felt it begin to move behind me

Accelerating I realized with fear that I would soon be falling thru the air

As we took a sharp corner the outer rear wheel came off the battered car

          Looking far down to the valley I did not see it smash out my window

As the driver fought for control I began to shout and choke an old Inca man

She showed me that she loved me in every way that she knew

          I spurned her with all the abiding hatred that I felt for myself

When she finally left it took years for me to simply accept the blame

The handgun did not frighten her as much as the wild look in his eyes

          She quickly rang up a No Sale and handed him the contents of the till

His pocked and skinny twisted face kept her from enjoying her favorite TV shows

Too much cheap whiskey and bad acid had turned his eye whites yellow

          Now the Meth drew his cheeks in upon his toothless gums

The oven in the modular was clean because they never cooked at all

After his trailer had burned down he decided he should go fishing

          He picked us up hitchhiking on the way to his favorite lake

We talked briefly and then decided that we should go and fish together

All through the long nights the nurses awoke her every couple hours

          In the feeble November dawn they cheerfully came to start her day

She said due to their regimen that she grew more tired all the time

I awoke quite sick in the middle of the night and shit my stinking guts out

          Then I lay in a cold sweat and could not find my peace

That morning I found to my surprise that I could no longer rise from the bed

As I worked, my mind was always drawn to a walk with a friend of mine

          The logic and the code and the walk on the shady path

Now I have forgotten that work but I remember well my preoccupation

  

As my slender brightly-painted bobber disappeared I moved too slowly

          My father calmly finished unhooking another bluegill

He out-fished me on that last trip but we all ate well, in any case

Tossing aside my sweaty gear I noticed I was sore through and through

          The snow had been very good for many years

But I knew that soon I would have to learn to let it fall without me

When the smelly little man left her alone she felt dirty and ashamed

          For years she kept quiet and blamed herself for his actions

One day she could not resist taking aside his young step-daughter

Stumbling as I ran away I fell with all my weight squarely on one knee

          I felt something shattering and then I came to rest

I lay where I had fallen among the gray and rounded river stones

With great relief she heaved her vast bulk upon the dingy couch

          Well-provisioned she took up the watch with her remote control

She briefly regained a form of consciousness during the commercials

Standing on the frozen playground we watched as a leaden sky slowly lowered

          Our playful kindergarten shouts were filled with happy anticipation

Very slowly the year’s first snow flakes began to descend in late October

She could not bear to let him go so she kept all of his things in place

          Often she was half-convinced that she would awake from this dream

She did not seek any deeper meaning but remained true to her grief

As he raised his fist to strike the burro once again I took his other hand

          He quickly glanced me over and then tossed me to the ground

Our children tried to remain very quiet through their useless tears

I never felt the nails and ball bearings pierce my chest but I felt the flash

          I had prayed to calm my fears as my cellphone triggered the blast

They identified me later by the body parts I did not need now in Heaven

Was It Not You

Did I not walk in harmony with you in the soft light before that dawn

          Remember? the birds awoke each other with that sleepy singing

Through the tall wet grass and early summer flowers

          Among the stately ponderosa pines, was it not you and I?

When a gentle breeze stirred no leaves but merely caressed our foreheads

          And the hot and dirty city we once called home seemed so far away

The moon still rode above us but the light began to grow upon the hills

          Was it not you who looked into the distance without a trace of sadness?

Surely it was your eyes which reflected the peaks marching to the horizon

         I know that I remember walking quietly with someone every other day

Although just one figure was outlined against the sky, I did not stand alone

          Certainly we found no need for speaking with our hearts so very full

Did we not pause here in silence as the dew gathered upon our sturdy shoes?

          And we watched that old dog snuffling deeply in every nook and cranny

I know that you were there, for had you not always loved it just as much as I

          That sweet smell of morning somewhere, walking in the mountains

Indeed, it must have been you, with whom I shared those silent thoughts

          Our paths are only separated by the thinnest veil of ordinary time

Was it not yours, this hand I felt so lightly on my shoulder?

          Surely you had whispered something softly just across the years

Were you not the one in whom I saw myself when I was so much younger?

          Or did your grandma once look at me as if she had known me long ago?

And likely you will someday notice that I stand here quite close beside you

          And likely you notice someone who joins with you long, long from now

Did you not strive to point out some magical form in those far-off clouds?

          Did you not stand in wonder with me before the paintings in the cave?

Was it not you who drinks a pint for us just as I drank to both you, and them?

          Did I not feel that same joy for living that fills you now, so very ong ago?

My hands, like yours, were weak, grew strong, then turned old and gnarled

          I felt the sun upon my forehead just as you feel it caress you now

Could I not hear your sweet, clear voice as you sang the song of your life?

          Here I was when you came of age and stood sniffing this fair wind

Were these not the tears of joy you shed, that dry now upon my cheek?

          As we smell the air and see the dawn and hear a wind in the leaves

Did not the dust to which you had returned to, cling upon my own sweaty neck?

          And am I not now a simple part of the good earth beneath your feet?