“Brahman at Black Spruce Pond”

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Draft copy – (c) 2016 Jace Paul. No unauthorized use or reproduction permitted.

Brahman at Black Spruce Pond

The Ranger warned me:

“Don’t hike alone, or…” –
– or what?

I might grapple with a mother bear?

I may crack my head on an erratic, or

drown in the river, or

struck by the arm of a dying tree?

 

This petrifying fear of life limned –

What wasted wonder,

If I hit the ground, I’m ready to begin.

To kvetch because I might go under

away from the fussing eyes

of the Proper Custodians of Demise –

What wasted wonder!

 

How welcome – hear this – to be unfurled

as a cradle of moss;

to link up with the soul of an infant pine, skyward climbing

and know this: my light would finally magnified

And justified, the meager flames done starving on bare survival

unbound to fly across

the floor of the world.

 

I have no breath for calamity,

To fall, to feed the ferns and trees

Would be to die as who I lived to be.

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