tell me of your journey

tell me my friend of your journey

so that I may once again experience
the excitement

my legs no longer have strength

to traverse the landscape like i
once could, my lungs no longer
hold the breath of verve

i wish to hear of your sailing

the sea hearing only the welcoming
osprey and the slapping of the waves
against the bow

i wish to hear about the little seen birds

amidst the forest of trees where few
have trailed and so all scurry quickly
away to hide from the stranger visiting
their sacred abode

through your eyes and strength of

youthful legs and arms tell me of
your conquest of the Tetons, Rockies
and Andes where the lineage of my
ancestry also cast their shadows

tell me of the song the winds sang

when you stood atop the cliffs
in irish lore and the rice fields where
my buddies left their souls

tell me of all this my friend for

my legs no longer have the strength
my lungs no longer hold the breath
but my soul still wants to live amidst
the dream filled memories that my
heart beholds

 

letter from Jules

dear papa

your tears do not go unnoticed by me

even though most might consider me just a dog
i have feelings too. i appreciate when you take me
for a walk, when you throw the ball
when then we sit together in the grassy knoll
and watch things and sticks flow down the stream
i want so much to jump in to catch that darn stick
that thinks it’s getting away. i remember that one
time i did and you had to come in and rescue me.
i would have been ok but you showed how much
you cared for me.

i notice lately my legs are not as agile like when I

used to chase you around the tree or in the park
when you’d bring my sister Jaz so that we could chase
each other till our tongues were dragging in the
grass. i notice my eyes can’t see things much any
more and am having trouble hearing your call…"Jules"
i love it when you call my name. i love it when you pick
me up and we sit together on your favorite couch, you
reading or writing something on that screen thingy and
i lay my head on your lap.

hey papa, i know i’m getting old because we go to the

doctor more often lately. i want you to know papa
that all we can do is hold each other tight while we
still can. we don’t even have to say the words
because our hearts tell our story. don’t cry too much
papa when i’ve left for my next journey. i know you will
and it’s ok if it makes you feel better. we will see each other
in the next journey beyond soon. you’re no spring chicken
either (ooh, i love chicken). hey papa, i want you to know
i love you and you were the best friend and papa
ever.


your child
jules    



* written for imaginary garden with real toads imagined by               Herotomost, 'Lost Art/letter writing' challenge

carbon emissions: Pres. executive order

you know the air you breathe, I breathe also

the earth you walk upon i too traverse
the ocean that you swim and admire
the life that lives within
what your eyes see is also my view
but I think the colors differ and what i
choose to observe is unique to me
and you to you

our hearts, oh yes the heart, it beats

but the rhythms and the passions, vary
mine feels the Native Indians tears
disgust for the barren earth, denude
of trees, habitats and nests eschewed,
debris filled seas, net snarled fins,
mercury in floating lifeless scales,   
spears in the hearts of whales

i howl and hope the wind carries

my cries and those of the same heart
across the mountain and sea
into the ears of those who cannot hear
who selfishly worry to cost of the money in
their folded fist forgetting of the little hand
cupped in the other. will they ever see
a dolphin swim free, an eagle soar, a wolf
howl at the moon, an owl perched
in a forest tree?