Finding the Light like a Crow’s Flight
I live in the shadow of my own dream,
For days and days I climb over mounds of
Buried plans, mud-sliding under my feet,
A giant excavator is pouring,
Obstacles of truth, and my boot gets stuck,
Just like a child at play, I leave the boot,
Now wallowing in piles of ideas,
And so filthy, I cannot go to school,
A mess, marked by the mire of the shadows,
Going back to retrieve my sure-footing,
What would the classmates say, or the teachers?
‘Just go home son, and come back tomorrow’,
This is not a choice for me now, adult,
There is no tomorrow, only here and now,
Covered in half-baked mud and crud, I rise,
Can you question the state of the worker?
Fresh from the job, in constant toil, no rest,
Make no assumptions with all I have seen,
I climb to the top of the slope, grabbing
The roots of trees hanging where mud erodes,
Scrambling for the light of my goals and dreams,
My fingernails thick with dirt, I climb up,
And soon lay past the treacherous incline,
Panting, gasping, sweaty, covered in grime,
Sit up: look for the success of such steps,
A full forest shields the light I look for,
Dense woods, cedar and pine scraping the sky,
I can hear the echo of my own hopes,
I walk through grass and brush,
The fierce scolding of a crow reaches me,
The sun sets far beyond tangled forests,
It is getting late – I will take no chance,
The dark forest may go on endlessly,
I wait for the moon to tell the future,
I have been right: tomorrow does not begin,
I sleep in the wilderness with dark dreams,
In the morning, the sun rises again: today,
Steam follows, orange, and magenta skies,
Even the shadows hide, on my day of thoughts,
I am free to search the forest for truth,
Even to look far for the other side,
Today I tread over mulch, branches and leaves,
Skip across creeks, and reach down to taste cold water,
Wash my face in the mountain run-off,
Try to make sense of it all, and build plans,
What will I do with the light and the night?
Who will be the guide: the sun, moon or stars?
When the path is a reflection, like in the moon,
Is our shadow more awake?
Or do we live in pure form, as we always follow the sun?
As the truth builds mountains: can we climb through?
Or climb over, respected for the work,
We make our decisions wise each day,
Dreams hold clear ties to the light,
and follow the crow’s flight
Porous mind,
