Chipmunk on the hillside.
Perhaps Spring greetings
or conversation with a friend.
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The Road Between
Sometimes all there is to do is drive
and drive, and drive, and drive until
you forget to where you’re going,
you forget from where you came,
and you remember there’s no difference
except the road which lies between.
And when you don’t got the wheels
or means or place to stay
you walk, and walk, and walk until
it all makes sense enough to go away.
And you remember not to worry so much
as in all walks of eternity
you’re a part of this one, and the heartache
pain and blame is all just slapstick.
It’s a grand ole comedy of magic and men
who’d drown before they’d ever dive in.
So the next time I, see-you-me,
I hope we’re swimming in the Milky Way!
Travelers through time and time forgot,
our elephant minds remember.
The Other Type Of Feeling
You know that feeling?
The excitement you get when you see someone
And that someone’s a stranger
A stranger creeping up on the ground itself
Cautious and casual as not to disturb the air
And they think they’re not being watched
Yet secretly hoping that they are, because
What they’re creeping towards, they believe
Is gold, mercury, or an ancient artifact
An artifact no one but them has discovered
Or ever will—first—in their own time,
And in that moment you get excited too
Except you get excited for a different reason
And when their discovery turns to a shameful frown of defeat
Your lips turn upward towards the sky
Chuckling to yourself, kind of happy, kind of sad
Yet you understand enough to feel commradery
Wishing that stranger was your friend
Just so you could kick em in the pants
I will remain.
The grass is green getting longer
in the summer
there’s a barbecue and I’ve
got this rice paper journal
it’s eternal
like the sun over Nepal.
Now there’s these two little blue birds
singing softly, shadow dancers
on the lawn
I’ve got this quaint little feeling
there’s a reason
for the bull skull on the wall.
A plane flies overhead
a sky of blue, a sea of red
mountaintops and forest bed
remain…
The grass is covered with snowfall
in October
frosted snow caps on the lawn
yet still those two little blue birds
nesting softly
they sing their joyful song.
I lace my boots fill my canteen
need some relief
from the city full of drums
rucksack and trail unwinding
I’m reminded
of my love for everyone.
The rocks and sandstone bend
leaves fall from tree, I comprehend
there is no time still consequence
remains,
I will remain.
from the grassy knoll
A wave of relief rushes over me
and I haven’t smiled so hard,
as when a flock of morning dove
flutter from the grassy knoll
and fly overhead.
Reason #10 for Hiking the Pacific Crest Trail.
My mind is made up.
Things are much easier, now
that my mind is made up.
Words Of An Average White Male 