The way you travel
on the time bound planet,
to follow or not
the deeply rutted road
or find yourself
in a dark wooded valley
unknown to everyone
but yourself.

When stripped down
to marrow and bone,
the only resource
what you harvest from within,
stay with the river,
wear down your boots;
remember freedom
is not for the weak
or easily frightened.

That cabin in the far clearing
with smoke from the chimney,
keep walking pilgrim,
it may be yours.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

8 Responses

  1. Beautiful, Don. My little poem in a similar vein.

    Winter Bones

    Dropping through layers
    Rosy skin wet with dew
    To blood, muscle, sinew
    Reaching skeletal depth
    Grey and pliable in life
    White and calcified in death
    Winter bones of the ancestors.

  2. Beautiful Don. And the photo!! What a human being!!! Love that too. Thank you for providing so much nourishment and light.

  3. It takes marrow and bone to endure Winter season, and to find joy in it. Compassion for Blackfeet Nation where has been little time to prepare.

  4. After a day on the Brahamaputra River in Assam, India, this beautiful poem speaks loudly to the Hotel Guys as we explore NE India. Thank you brother for your frequent love notes! Hugs!
    See our adventures at Hotelguys.com
    Rich and Paul
    PS…As Robert Bly taught me, always read a poem outloud twice!

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