Poetry for Love and Life 5
If you've read my profile, you know that I've had a few books published. One of those released nationwide by B&H Publishers in Nashville is A Choice to Cherish, a book that feels like it rushed right out of my heart and soul for the world to embrace.
The book tells of a young man and his estranged, dying grandfather who has written eight stories about the keepsakes in his safe. Through these stories, the grandson learns the secrets of his grandfather's life, and an outpouring of love and acceptance takes place.
Near the end of the book, the grandfather recites the following:
In the mountains of Montana,
I find myself traversing in a dream world:
a world where mere humanity meets divinity,
where creation remains in its pure state,
and sin and corruption find no one to seduce.
I taste extrication and reprieve upon the mountain canvasses
where God is the Master Artist.
No ugly graffito stares at me from every brick wall
because there are no brick walls;
no vandalism on anything just 'because it's there' to ruin.
Vandals don't climb mountains with paints and brushes;
I guess that's because there are no traffic signs to deface.
And that's a good thing,
because I can't imagine a 'Yield-Right of Way' sign
making things any safer for two bighorn rams
on a collision course during rut.
The only things 'there' in the land where I live and hunt
are eagles, elk, deer, bear, moose, sheep, goats, and lions.
Not to mention trees, shrubs, rocks, berries, streams, sun,
and the Big Sky.
There's a 'peace that passeth all understanding' in the wild.
There's beauty, and there's silence.
I've seen sights that nothing man-made can match,
and I've heard silence roar in my ears like Niagara.
And when that silence finally breaks,
it's not because of noise from a TV or a blaring radio.
Instead, pure Mother Nature turns herself on
in one form or another.
Perhaps with heavy snowflakes tapping against the trees,
or with steady rain splashing off the brim of a hat.
Maybe with the snort of a buck,
or with honking geese flying overhead.
But the best audiovisual in the world
is seeing and hearing an enraged bull elk
bugle at thirty yards.
If you've never experienced that,
you've missed out
on one of the surefire ways
of fully discovering whether you're a man or a mouse.
When people ask me why I live and hunt
in the mountains of Montana,
I tell them 'for my own peace of mind.'
You see, every time I climb the neighboring peaks,
I meet myself.
The clothes I wear
don't mean diddly to the lodge pole pines.
How much or how little money I have
doesn't concern the deer.
The bears don't care
whether I'm short or tall,
or whether I'm this color or that.
A man's whole facade
gets dropped up there in the hills,
and the real, naked person stands up.
It's just life! I love writing about the things that are all around us!
Here's a bit more for the road home:
Bell wires bound the slaughter,
shadow casting a pint-sized field.
Rusted swing sets,
crippled and pastured,
shepherd star-minded schoolboys
kicking hungry footballs
over makeshift uprights.
march across the turf,
smeared in routinely churned mud,
running to daylight until
the final, blinding tackle is made.
And one more for true lovers:
I'LL GIVE YOU MY LOVE
You are, you are
the love of my life.
I want you forever
to live as my wife.
I offer my passion,
my dreams and my heart;
a vow of a lifetime
till Death do us part.
And even if Death
steps on stage uninvited,
it can't touch the love
our two souls have united.
Should Life smile kindly
for ten thousand days,
I'll give you my love
in ten million ways.
Hope you come around again!
This is beautifulsoul. Out!
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