The Way I Came

The Way I came

I can't travel again

for the once-empty snow

now has my tracks upon it
and by walking that path
I changed it
and it changed me

A Gently Broken Ice

Something there is

that finds pleasure in

stepping on unbroken ice

alongside the frozen pond

applying pressure gingerly

like a first kiss

and finding if your weight

can be borne

and then regretting

with a sigh

when you crack through

and it can't be

undone

On Their Way

The leaves

submerged in the bottom of the swamp

were turning gray and then black

dying and turning

if not to dust

then perhaps mush

a brownblack slurry

composed of memories

from thousands of trees

but I caught them today

remembering hints of their former glory

ghosts of the last year

on their way to meet

ghosts of years gone by

As the Sun Set Gold

As the sun set gold on the first day

of the new year

he climbed to the mountaintop

seeking a place

as thin as the shell of a bird's egg

where he could pray to the

small hobgoblins and great minds

of the heroes of inconsistency -

those trail-less wanderers blazing

New Paths

that great cloud of witnesses

and he waited and

held court in hushed reverence and

prayed in tongues of wood and spirit

The wild birds were the first to show

singing the most ancient psalms

Then, Uncle Ralph rose from the grave

and began drumming

thum thum thum

on the side of a hollow log

a song of unsettled hope

Sister Rachel joined in song

an untiring song of beauty

and mystery

The Healer, King

rose up, too,

and preached a sermon,

saying that darkness can't drive out darkness

and then the sun set

and we all held hands

and prayed onward into the night,

confident that the next day would come

and that

in the meantime

we had each other.

When, At Last, the Sun Sets

When, at last

the sun sets,

it will set upon you

and upon me

equally

and the moon

will suffice in the near-darkness

and

should there be no moon

and the stars are covered by clouds

let us hold hands

and find our peace

together

in darkness

And Brighter Leaves

I dreamed I was

an old black leaf

littered along the way

 

and brighter leaves

joined there with me

and we went from night to day

For The Season Had Changed

 Although the forest was light
or at least, light enough,
he remained in the shadows, black

black, he was,
and sober as a grave
all stillness and breathlessly slack

the leaves beneath
his well worn shoes
were dark and damp and cold

for the season had changed
without and within
and he was tired down deep in his soul