I adore the echo a dog creates,
as it gallops full throttle with
no particular place to go.
The clamor contentment provides while
back scratching in the snow.
The sound of patience whilst on the hunt for crow.
Sounds like thunder
Smells like rain
Feels like dog and the gods, are one in the same.
Simple, a winter’s beach confronting a warm retreat.
Playing the fool I look back to the promised land of your presence.
Playing the fool I smell your on the dusky powder…
shadowed by only me.
Glancing for your love in the solemn pines and abandoned tundra there is no solace below or from above.
Treading softly, as you have taught, where is the peace that once had been sought?
Is it there are the front door, welcoming, soft and gentle?
Is it there in the moments of life without care?
I walk the woods.
I rove the trail.
Snow…knee deep, moments to myself…
‘did I fail?’
Fail to embrace what you once thought to be grace?
Such a quiet, whimsical, being that has left a memory to trace
This winter funeral leaves me in awe.
This winter funeral only betray’s love and her disgrace.
Let me ask you this,
‘how would it be if we kissed…nose to muzzle, muzzle to this?’
With the onslaught of winter wind from the trees would it bring me to inspiration from bend-ed knee.
I clasp upon what you have given me…snowy wool, star-like gaze, wandering that cannot be betrayed.
Two feet to four paws, I have always been in awe.
These stages of pronounced reverence have given to the inspiration that I need.
Mile upon, as far as the crow flies, mile, there has only been deliverence from what we are forced to see.
I could walk with you for a distance of markers, blank and unforgiven, in the wilderness.
How basic? To live, to live, to live, with that which pardons the manner in which we give.