Not the sorrow born of isolation,
Serenity born of
Haven’t you learned this already?
Those things are not real.
The trees, the rain, this trail, me.
These are real.
Ditch that other stuff.
I watched you push your painted, half-filled heart up the hill,
Place it on a staff and wave it high
For all to see.
I saw you stumble when tragedy rent your days
Like sails in the hurricane,
How your knees fell atop your emblazoned flag
And crushed it like a grape.
I felt the pain you carried like a rucksack lashed to your chest.
Saw the way you lifted it in front of your eyes until
You could no longer see the path.
I waited patiently, years perhaps if I knew of time.
Until finally you noticed me.
Watching, feeling, seeing, waiting.
Until you found a place to set down your pack
Long enough for us to climb this hill,
Let’s stay here.
At this intimately familiar bend in the trail.
Beneath these trees we know by name.
We are not compelled to move.
There is no war or fire or calamity or threat that coerces us to flee.
There is not a clock or timer that will sound an alarm if we linger here.
Let’s hold this now.
Treasure its very essence, bury our noses within and inhale deeply.
Savor the scent and the warm and cold, the rough and smooth, dark and light of it all.
Locked onto one another’s gaze.
Let’s stay here.
You wrack your brain seeking words
To describe a life spent without them.
To hold up, canonize, memorialize,
Constructed poems and homespun gems.
You try so hard to commit to memory
All those days of you and me.
Halcyon times, seasons without care,
The past, and trails that lead us there.
You dissect and contemplate.
To behold wonders held within.
To pierce the veil, catch the sun,
To hold the world on which we spin.
Your heart doth grieve, tears shall fall,
And mourning black you’ll wear for years.
When I am now most perfect and free,
I cannot comprehend your tears.
Many of the laws of Dog Nature can be applied to or interpreted for humans.
Many of the laws of Human Nature could never exist in a dog.