Never Leave This Place

March 12, 2015 § Leave a comment

11021109_10153188340625229_6011844861634396874_n
Deep into the forest
Hand in hand held strong
Discover earthen chorus
Gather singing song

Secret magicks spoken
Bushes, brambles, briars
Elven paths unbroken
Summon sacred fires

Pass thicket, thistle, thorn
As quiet meadows murmur
Welcome fawnling newborn
May your bones grow firmer

Song of snaking streams
Tossing of the thicket
Hikers’ starry dreams
Serenade by cricket

Sun peeks through slender trees
Awakening spirits of lake
Greet the cold winter sun
And share the time you take

Lay upon the grasses soft
With sunshine touching face
Floating leaves in lake aloft
Offer earthen embrace

Never leave this place
Never leave this place

Crying In The Rain [Winter 2014]

March 12, 2015 § 1 Comment

136898

Crying in the rain.
Feeding cycles of mist and dew, sweat and blood, rearranging vapors that permeate and bind.
Cycles feeding cellulose, lignin, flesh. Rainfall, that drifting water sanctum.
Cast a stone into the waters, watch the ripple of its waves.
Even a single drop can still add up to so much. Liquid echoes.
In cleansing rain, wash it all away.
The torments of the past, the fears of the future. Wash it all away.
Redeeming torrent.
Re-surface, head above the waters.
Take the next breath.
Still alive.
Surviving.

Earthen Return [Spring 2011]

March 12, 2015 § Leave a comment

10453428_10152561564820229_4793551344239187726_n

lay my bones ‘neath rock and root
where songbirds call, and owls hoot
where river meets the ancient trees
where children dance in leaf-strewn breeze
between the meadow and the oaks
and in the hearts of kindred folks

lay my bones ‘neath rain and ash
where tree and lake and hillside clash
into the caverns, woods and seas
where dwell the feral refugees

lay my bones ‘neath dirt and brush
and when I finally pass on, hush

let me fade
all the way
back into the wild

[Poem inspired by Wolves In the Throne Room’s song:
I Will Lay Down My Bones Among The Rocks And Roots“]

Life Along The Margins [Winter 2014]

March 12, 2015 § 1 Comment

10888380_10153023468760229_9168168232045673091_n10891641_10153023458465229_6628104429775989672_n

T______ and I departed north on foot from a major city, about 13 miles, following the train tracks. Initially we found many established camps along the margins, resourceful peoples making due and living amongst the edge zones: nestled into treelines, camped along rivershores, tucked under bridges. Between cities and farms, industries and wildlands. « Read the rest of this entry »

Solitude & Snowfall [Winter 2014]

March 12, 2015 § Leave a comment

10365960_10152873497270229_2524447882268264058_n

Solitude and snowfall,
pale grey weights both.
Crisp air crackles in the lungs as
cold, lingering spirits drawn near,
sheltering within the living warmth.
Stillness of branches, as
slumbering elders reach skyward,
rooted into the depths.
Quiet wisdom of ages,
bound in cambium, lignin, sap.
Fox tracks patted softly upon the
white crystalline dust.
Lessons in seeking.
Teachers thanked with sudden,
heartfelt awe.
In bleary mist
Nothing shimmers but the glistening eyes
Of the wanderer, the tracker, the
haunted one.
Death-speaker, torch-bearer,
open to the dormant frostland,
to fates undecided.
Ruminating on hibernation and hailstones, on
evergreens and chilled bones,
On glacial voids,
and hearts made cold.
Fallen spirits beckon, whispering:
what cometh after the Winter’s pass,
the Spring,
Or the Pyre?

The Light That Pierces The Gloom [Winter 2014]

March 12, 2015 § Leave a comment

Ferguson-protests

A night infected with anger
Rising, blazing, then
Swirling, subsiding
Calm once more
Clarity
Let us not call this
A return to peace
Do not forget: indignation
Do not forget: dignity
Do not forget: the shadows of the past
Or that which still casts this dark
Be the light that pierces the gloom
The torch that feeds the conflagration
Fanning the flames
Til the ashes of the old order
Feed the soil of the future

Animist Trekking Diary: the Lost Coast [Fall 2014]

March 12, 2015 § Leave a comment

10614299_10152912360180229_7214775137610315984_n
We departed from the Black Sands Beach in Shelter Cove at mid-afternoon, J______ and I, hiking the Lost Coast trail, with packs heavy and eyes wide. A treachery of sand and stone greeted us. Grasping waves inspired our vigilant attention. With steady pace along difficult terrain, we walked beside forested hills, as miniature waterfalls trickled down to meet the beach. Tracks in the sand: hume, canid, ursus…others perhaps? With two days in and two days back, we would spot many. « Read the rest of this entry »

Where Am I?

You are currently browsing the creative writing & poetry category at hastenthedownfall.