The Marker Stone

It was just an old stone
A Marker Stone
Set in place to remember
Property lines
Of old farms and fields.

Covered by leaves
I stumbled over it
And found it to be
A remembrance
Of long ago.

I did the same with you
Dear
Falling to my knees
Without noticing
Someone already placed his marker stone.

How I loved your fields
The fresh daylight
Upon your petals
And the grassy scent
Of you.

But your marker stone
Was secreted from me
Covered by the debris
Of hard years
And harder words.

When you revealed the stone
I crumbled to powder
To ash
Like the dryness
That consumed you.

But there was his marker stone…
On the third finger
Of your left hand.

The Dragon

Didn’t we wear our Blues
Like kings?
All dazzle and polish.

We were as flint
Uncompromising
Our eyes lanterns
Boots singing on pavement
Like jack hammers
In concert.

I’ve put away
Every remembrance
The chevrons and brass
Every device
I once so proudly wore.

There are fewer of us
Our ranks thinning
Like our hair.

I’ve grown my beard
Let my hair creep past my shoulders
That once wore sparkling pride.

I still believe.
But the man I was
Sleeps in a drawer
Beneath my socks.

To open it
Would be to loose
The Dragon.

And I am just too weary to ride.

I Am

I am electrons
Vibrating on a screen
The product of key strokes
The communication of processors
And program formats.

I am electrical synapses
Firing in gray matter
The result of experiences
In a physical universe
And the reduction of emotions.

I am the product
Of all I have seen
Everything I have heard
The end of what I have touched
And been touched by.

I am the compression
Of human emotion
The lofty summits of joy
And the gloomy despair
Of sorrow.

I am like you.
I am parallel to your path.
I am where you were.
I am going where you are.
I am life
And I will remain
Until my electrons cease dancing
And I become a drop
In the stream of eternity.

The Bargain

Have ye a ship
A boat or bark?
Have ye a compass
And a lantern against the dark?

The water is wide
At the river’s mouth
And the way will be hard
When I turn south.

This is a troubled land
And I’ve fixed on yonder star
To take me over
The moaning bar.

Have ye conveyance
A craft of sturdy frame?
I care not a whit
For its flag or name.

Give me your vessel
And I’ll give you gold coin
But if you refuse
I’ll split you gullet to groin.

I am a hard man
In a land harder yet
And if ye know my name
It’s best ye forget.

Am I altogether clear, sir?
I’ll be taking my leave
And you may take a few gilders
And the dust off my sleeve.

I’ll be having my life back
And the good of my name.
And you’ll be having
Your share of the same.

Home

Home is an idea
Beyond mere halls
And a place to lay
Needs no walls.

I’ve my shoulder
For a pillow
And for my blanket
A wispy willow.

I wash my face
In a cold stream river
And brew my coffee
To fend the shivers.

I’ve a fire inside
That needs no hearth
And for my floorboards
I have the earth.

The early songbirds
Are my rousing clock
And for my friends
The southbound flock.

My front yard faces
The western range
And my backyard
Cities wild and strange.

I wear the land
The corn and wheat
As cover for my bones
Hair to feet.

Shed no tear for me.
Do not think me poor.
Everywhere you stand
Is my porch and door.

A Personal Note...

If there are any readers who, like me, believe God hears prayer, then please say one for me. I'm in the fight of my life. (Actually, same song, second verse). I must not lose. If I do...well...it'll all be over. Most of you don't know me. But like you, I exist, and I want to live. Thank you for the kindness you do me in a simple prayer. I have so much more I want to write. But death tends to stop the whole process of writing.
I need your prayers and best wishes. Thank you.
Now let's get back on the trail, whatta ya say?
~ James

Tonight

I drag my body
Like a Hebrew slave
Toiling with great stones
In Egyptian heat.

It complains to me
In the ancient language
Of pain
Prehistoric and guttural.

They say angels hover
Around the prayers
Of saints
The plea of the righteous.

Refresh me
O, Lord.
Answer the cries
Of my unfaithful flesh.

One more day
In the desert
Before Jordan
Rolls.

I can smell the river
From here.
Tonight
I’ll camp in Canaan.

Grace

When I lay with her
The sun
And moon
Cast their light
At our feet
Adding their gathered glory
To our mingling.

Her touch was
Gentle
Like mist
Yet insistent
As the pull
Of tides.

Her gaze upon me
Was that
Of compassion
Mixed with
Feral need
And I offered my heart
The way a man
Offers water
To the parched
And bread
To the starved.

I wear thoughts of her
Like soft clothing
Old shoes
Sun on my shoulders.

I could contain her
No more
Than laundry
Drying on a line
Can hold the summer wind
No more than
Clouds
Can hold an August sun.

But she held me once
And her memory
Is grace to me.

Still

I recall your ribbon smile
Eyes that flamed the night
Finding comfort for a time
In the dancing diamond light.

I remember your voice, melodic
As the call of tropic birds
And your heart, a glowing candle
That flickered at my words.

I saw you as a child
In the skin of a woman, grown
With a charming, temperate spirit
And a heart I may have known.

But time and distance moved us
And though I won't see you again
There still burns the smallest fire
That flickers yet within.

I sometimes sit before it
And watch the tiny flame.
It returns me to our loving
And I will never be the same.

Across the sea of time
And the immensity of space
Within that sparkling little fire
I still see your face.

One More Time

What would satisfy?
One night with you
Wants a thousand
Tens of thousands more.

One more kiss
Is a seed
To plant
A harvest.

One more time
Making love
Is a wave
That surges a tide.

Your hand
In mine
Flares a spark
To blaze a fire.

You are my craving
My breath
My bread
My being.

What would satisfy?
Endless hours
In the light of your eyes
In your arms.