These Beautiful Territories


The cloud outside the window is shaped like an angel
The gods have forgotten to say goodbye to these beautiful territories
It’s impossible to keep shoes unmuddy along these trails
Danny was right, I should have brought a pair of hiking boots
Oprah’s rituals for recently divorced find their way onto
      one of two channels in the mountain forest cabin
What’s the trick to self-esteem, to mindfulness?
What’s the trick to working one’s way through all the damn tricks
      and getting to heart of the matter?
What’s the heart matter in midst of a million poplar trees?
How wander muddy trails to right spirit, right action,
      end of grudges, compassion for all, the path
      to suffering’s end?
I’m getting older–how wonderful it feels to find a new kind spirit
      as perhaps company for the next journey
One learns to release urban reliances here taking an aching back
      out to outhouse first thing in the morning
What history lessons are they teaching George Washboard Bush
      back in the States tonight?
Kerouac the Canadian said trees don’t talk good
It’s true! I can’t tell what the hell they’re saying!
Wooo taaacaaa waaaahhhhh eeeeeeeeee
But for some reason they cuddle up like longtime friends.
I give them advice–Duck the buzzsaw! Slip the lightning!
Hold your nose when the trucks drive by!
These trees will outlast America’s next president
      whether it’s Slicker or Dumber
& love will arrive with new water buckets to quench our thirst