Love and Tree
I approached the tree, it was like wondering down an alley of darkness, the great maples of our times, hanging over head not yet destroyed by the wicked disease that would impact this area so widely. Like so many years ago when the peoples of this land where taken away, by storms and guns and wants and greed’s. I approached the tree in the darkness and it reminded me of where I had come from. It moved me, it beckoned to me like the harlots of my youth. Like the sirens of my days filled with misfortune. Yet this tree this ghostly image at the end of this alley of life was of a different time, a time immemorible.
I longed to know what it held for me, I longed to peer into the heart of that tree. This life I had lived had been so void of anything of it’s nature I had to have it, I had to see what it held for me. Like destiny at my door steep here was the shadow of my future. Was it the end of the beginning? It is my doubt that makes my feet stutter, it is my longing for everything to be right that allows my heart to flutter. Where can I go from here when all I want is to see the other side. When all I want is in, into the heart that holds my attention.
Some tell me it is this pain, pain of all that is hopped for and not yet grasped that we live for. What else have we but hope, love and faith that things will end up real. The reality I wander into is the wondering of the masses, opium some say. But I wonder how they were hurt by this tree that I gaze upon, because their hearts have been so damaged by their own thoughts of love. Still I am beckoned and I can not see past the mist of this age. I can not see past my youth and the wants of my heart.
I wonder why the pain runs deep, how the pain was applied to me so strongly that I hide it from all who look. I conceal the hope so well, I forget it there. So here is my try, here is my release into the minds of all who read. My heart covets the life I want to live, and yet I hold it back, what have you to say, to me the heart of hope. I uncover this hiding for you and I say I will hope, I will long for all that is real and true and it will only be death that can keep me from attaining it here.
And break does the light into this picture, the heart of the matter revealed, it is my own darkness that shadows my feet from their path and now I see. See that this tree that stands in front of me is nothing but allegory-… and metaphor for all that is our hearts that wish to explore. I remember the youth of adventure, the muse of my soul, the beauty of fare ladies and the desire that lays in me like a mole. Will I forget them I think not, I will restore them and place them in their rightful spot.
You see the light it is clear, it rains down from heaven and like love makes my heart smear, from east to west and north to south, like the branches that hang from this gallant tree, and the honey that swarms them the springly bees. Next to the branches I look for luck, and see the feet of wild birds to freely struck, in orbit around this tree so full of life, it lends to passions the man’s soul filled with strife, yet let lose the longings so fare that all in the woman’s heart subdue with nothing but feminine care. I lift my glass to you, birds and bees, it is this that my soul lose me in the trees.
So I wonder around this tree of life, so once I thought, I drag my fingers across its bark. I think and think and think and still no words come to mind, on how to describe this paradox of hope that love will be found amongst the trees, that one would stand out amid the rest. So I stare into wilderness and hope again, for love to find me, or me find it. Perhaps I merely look harder and my soul will find it’s fit.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Political Ranting
This was a response to a friends writing...
As am I, enraged. Long have the depths of the controversial constrained the heels of men and woman in the political process that seems to direct hearts to the categorization that is the polarization of our homeland. A few times in history we have come to this place, and every situation was to be a breaking and turning point for our nation. I pray to God that the arms of men, brothers and sisters do not lash out at one another, but the words of daughters and fathers, mothers and sons seem to leak from the very foundations of the laws of our land and this is our pain. That we must rise against the will of those we love. Not in rebellion but in compassion. I fear, I fear for that which as yet to be seen, the break down of this country by the politics we all say we hate, and yet we vote for it to continue.
I too walk a cold path with my hands in my pockets wondering. Wandering the paths I see before me trying to find the root cause. I can not look back, I have done too much looking back. I will move forward and I just wish that some would walk with me. Not to agree, but to explore, explore how the ideals and dreams and visions of a few men a few hundred years ago translate into relevancy upon our 21st century heart. Just as those men peered from a seat of unknowing, far greater than our own, it was the want for something better that drove them to uphold and fight for all that they held dear.
Some may think that means we must rise up in anger, rise up in rebellion against the powers that be. But I say no. I peer into the years before us and I see the foundations laid by men and women’s blood so that we would not have to fight to be better. Don’t you see they fought so we wouldn’t have to! They laid down lives so that we could live them in perpetual change, that is our country, one of melting on of movement it is dynamic. Why must we hold to that which seems dear when it destroys the dreams of the ones who will come after. All I see is smog my friends. All I see is green.
The dead presidents sneer at us from the corruption that rises from our hearts! Take responsibility for your actions. You voted them their, take them down from there! We believe them, fess up, we nodded our heads in agreement. We got stung and you say, oh those damn bastards in DC. I’m not saying that, I’m hanging my head. They represent me. They represent my ink on some paper. They represent my land, my house, my heart my dreams. What will we do? I may not be there, but my voice will be there. No tea parties for me, they live on my dollar, they work on my time.
hope you get it, i dunno if i do. Any quetions just ask.
-Mike
As am I, enraged. Long have the depths of the controversial constrained the heels of men and woman in the political process that seems to direct hearts to the categorization that is the polarization of our homeland. A few times in history we have come to this place, and every situation was to be a breaking and turning point for our nation. I pray to God that the arms of men, brothers and sisters do not lash out at one another, but the words of daughters and fathers, mothers and sons seem to leak from the very foundations of the laws of our land and this is our pain. That we must rise against the will of those we love. Not in rebellion but in compassion. I fear, I fear for that which as yet to be seen, the break down of this country by the politics we all say we hate, and yet we vote for it to continue.
I too walk a cold path with my hands in my pockets wondering. Wandering the paths I see before me trying to find the root cause. I can not look back, I have done too much looking back. I will move forward and I just wish that some would walk with me. Not to agree, but to explore, explore how the ideals and dreams and visions of a few men a few hundred years ago translate into relevancy upon our 21st century heart. Just as those men peered from a seat of unknowing, far greater than our own, it was the want for something better that drove them to uphold and fight for all that they held dear.
Some may think that means we must rise up in anger, rise up in rebellion against the powers that be. But I say no. I peer into the years before us and I see the foundations laid by men and women’s blood so that we would not have to fight to be better. Don’t you see they fought so we wouldn’t have to! They laid down lives so that we could live them in perpetual change, that is our country, one of melting on of movement it is dynamic. Why must we hold to that which seems dear when it destroys the dreams of the ones who will come after. All I see is smog my friends. All I see is green.
The dead presidents sneer at us from the corruption that rises from our hearts! Take responsibility for your actions. You voted them their, take them down from there! We believe them, fess up, we nodded our heads in agreement. We got stung and you say, oh those damn bastards in DC. I’m not saying that, I’m hanging my head. They represent me. They represent my ink on some paper. They represent my land, my house, my heart my dreams. What will we do? I may not be there, but my voice will be there. No tea parties for me, they live on my dollar, they work on my time.
hope you get it, i dunno if i do. Any quetions just ask.
-Mike
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