Onefeather Journal

Winter Roads

It is February 
I travel westerly on familiar roads...
Crusted snow-banks 
Edge my path across familiar land
Country roads in winter, 
Unfolding memory of past times

It seems the Barren trees salute my passage...
Exuberant! 
Their uncloaked limbs 
Cast Heavenward
Ordered... aligned and dignified.

Rhythm: graceful play
And silent song, they speak...
Plowed Earth 
Silent in gentle slumber... dreaming
Life dozes
​In half tone serenity...

​Covered with snow... a blanket 
That holds Earth dear in Winter.
​Solace for the sleeping loam...
Slowed pulse, and yet I feel 
A heart beating within the soil
Supporting all the world now slowed and meditative...

The Spirit Tree, my old friend 
Who claims endurance on my behalf...
Reminds me of the strength in numbers
Facing fears, wisdom shared...
Yet Life sometimes reshapes our future, sculpts a path, 
Unexpected... undesired.

Isolates; makes us 
Seem to stand alone
Challenged within by unrecognized forces 
Aims our life in new directions
Rewrites our purpose...
Expands us in unanticipated ways.

Surprised, we see ourselves anew
Amazed at how we've spread our 
Limbs and grown
In so many unforeseen
And astonishing ways
Beyond the fear of isolation...

Unfettered, apart from fences, 
Walls or need of protective forces
Our invincibility now claimed
The road of Life our fair companion
​And winter’s Grace reclaimed...
She has seen into society
​knows it for the sham it has forever been.
Drifting apart from her community
Setting on rocks at the edge of the deep,
Gazing off into the haze cloaked sea;
She wonders what life looks like ... afar.

He comes to conclude
Having been a history student these many years,
That Homo sapiens is a failed experiment.
Ascends often to mountain tops; lofty peaks.
Spends days looking up into the sky
Wishing he might simply drift up; away.

When the moon renewed
She felt pulled by gravity. No! Tides …
Stole the pretty blue rowboat;
Untied it from the pier.
Allowed herself to be carried by Moon’s magnetic force
Out across the shining, silver sea. 

​When the sun at solstice brightly shone
He felt drawn by light.
Slipped unnoticed into the gondola
stoked the fire, releasing thermal waves.
A red balloon in which he floats toward Sol’s blazing orb, 
between ductile clouds … into the azure sky.

Somewhere apart from place and time
Where eternal sky meets eternal sea;
A point beyond earth and heaven’s curvature
noticing each other; hiding, smiling.
Shy first caress. A kiss!
Once separate, were united;
​Beyond the sky and sea.
The Counselor

​Joseph’s name was passed along to Pharaoh, 
ruler of a troubled land.
A hope; whispered dream revealer.
When he appeared, mystic sparkle in one eye
​his coat of many colors gleaming in the dusty air.
Motes caught suspended in the August heat
​Danced Divine and swirled knowingly
​in the courtyard.
The King recounted stories of barren cows
and fatted bulls 
afraid to ask what it all had meant.

​For seven years abundance will be upon this land,
then famine; lean years eclipsed
​by seasons ever changing.
Be clever, my liege, and waste nary a 
​single grain or mite of source.
When shadows fall, have extra oil
thy lamps prepared against a dark September day …

Eleven days elapsed
​the towers fell,
lightening flashed
a black sky clouded while
blood floated, surfaced upon the Nile.

Later, after it all was writ
​diligence and sweaty brow; furtive… the counselor,
alone in his small palace,
in a quiet suburb of Memphis,
where tall and stately ancient date palms
gentle rhythm in October’s evening breeze
did sway(Not unlike the lusty bellies of his harem).
Understated elegance; wealth accrued.

​Wondered to himself 
“Did I this tragedy create, 
then un-create
that I might be seen and heard
​as Counselor, Oracle, Man of Wisdom?
Am I guilty of the sins my patrons suffer
that I might make my Fate?

Will I willingly change my mind;
or is this all dreamed
​by a dreamer… dreaming me.
Unwinding time and starry sprinkled sky
Designed to make the dreamer wake?”
Love has Left

Not withstanding all the things
that have been said.
Some driven deep,
leaving sore wounds and scars.

I cannot be but loving; feeling
apart from meaningless sorrow.
No anger left,
​​antagonism burned. 
​Buried dross.
And, yes, I shall probably continue
to fear Love’s precipice.

So do not expect
a return to past words or soft caress.
If you should notice
the faint glimmer
of my star on the northern horizon.

Hush! Do not call out to me…
for Love has left me deaf and blind.
He She

Continued...


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