Poetry and Art- A Footprint of Inspiration

An eagle and a jet airliner cross paths in front of my windshield in a perfect line

As Kansas’ “Dust in the Wind” plays over my stereo.

What does it mean? Not a damned thing!

But thank God, I had the foresight to write down the inspiration.

God? I ponder that mystery as the violin solo vibrates through my truck tires,

Echoing through the asphalt waking ghosts of those that have walked this path before.

The primitive man who witnessed an eagle flying across his path.

No jet airliner, no electric guitar and violin carried over radio waves,

But thank God he had the foresight to memorize the moment.

God? I wonder if that was a cause for reflection while he wandered

Etching the vision into his mind where later that night

As he sat by a fire he scuffed a nearby stone with the charred end of a stick

And produced a mark that reminded him of the great bird.

So with this inspiration he drew from his memory the picture

And with the burned stick reached toward the wall next to him

Where he scrawled the form from his mind into a visible semblance

Which he studied throughout the night and dreamed with mind sparked

Until the morning light found him running with his stick while scanning the heavens

But halted when instead of finding a great bird he came upon a beautiful woman

Who knelt at the edge of the path scooping water from a brook into her hands to drink

While gazing up at him with curious expression toward his charred branch

Causing him to kneel in search of a stone but finding none.

So with no other surface offered for his inspiration he stuck the point in the dirt

And began a portrait of the woman who would become his mate

While overhead an eagle sang as a mountain gust blew dust in the wind

Which finally trickled off into the distant air.

My song ends and I am forced to slow to a stop for the man standing in the road

Is recording something into the pavement with a stick.

He looks up and our eyes meet through the glare of my windshield

What does it mean? Not a damn thing!

But at least we had the foresight to write it down

So that the next visitor that comes upon this trail will see our footprints

And know we were here.