When The Medicine Doesn’t Take
I wrote this during a particularly depressed fall day. While walking in nature is usually the quickest route out of such a mood. This time it didn’t work. It felt like I was walking around with an astronaut’s glass globe around my head – the beauty would not reach me. Here is the experience:
The leaf glow ached in me.
Golden and deafening.
With the wind,
Those dry leaves applaud
The faux daylight races
between the silver columns
to light the dark forest floor.
To shine one last goodbye
on its leaf lovers.
I only faked appreciation today.
I did not meet the land openly.
I wanted to die.
With a hopeful blue sky
and golden leaves dancing around
the bright apple jewels.
I wished it would end,
as I rounded the bend
of a crackly dirt road
That split the seas
of rolling green fields.
Happy cows laid their necks on the ground,
let the wind do the day’s work.
I’d come to a marsh
With red brothers arching a fence
around the soft golden hair below.
The place looked so Canadian
that a moose was always in view
-whether physically there or not.
Life is a terrifying slide down a rocky hill.
You never get your footing,
And some people push you down even further.
Sometimes you grab ropes –
and sometimes they’re not ropes at all.
But I sure wish I had the voice to sing out that Canadian sound.
The melody that sounds like it looks.