LIKE FOOTPRINTS IN THE SNOW

Seeing a set of footprints in a light dusting of snow under a full moon early one morning prompted this poem.

Like Footprints in the snow
A lonely path and powdered snow
Brightened by a winter moon
Footprints falling in a row
Sunrise coming very soon

Someone walked this lane alone
And left their mark of passage there
Etched in ice upon the stone
Crystals glitter everywhere

“I was here, just look and see
I made a difference, you should know
See the tracks I left behind me
Showing others how to go”

How short a time until the daylight
then how briefly do they stay
traces still are there at twilight
Tomorrow they’ll be gone away

We live and work to leave some sign
A little light, a candle’s glow
But in the end, your life and mine
are like those footprints in the snow

A toast to those who’ve gone before us
Hold close those we love today
And sing another rousing chorus
Before our footprints fade away

.
mailto:deerthistle@sympatico.ca

MISSING NOTES

There are lots of jokes made about seniors who read the obituaries in the newspaper first. It becomes not quite so funny when you lose close friends and realize that you will inevitably lose more.
Too late we discover just how important is the role that friends play in our lives, and that when we lose one they leave an empty aching void.
This poem tries to express the grief these losses bring.

Missing Notes
Friends are the notes my life song plays
But the keyboard’s no longer complete
Still the music goes on
with an uneven beat
and the melody colours my days

Too busy to listen, we don’t have a clue
That the music is made up of parts
When some come up missing
It yanks at our hearts
and the tune becomes shocking and new

faint echos of lost notes are all that I hold
and I know now that each one was dear
and I yearn for the past
draw the memories near
and let the sweet music unfold

now I listen for each note and chord as they sound
I savor the tune as a whole
notes present and missing
are part of my soul
the music of love is profound

.
mailto:deerthistle@sympatico.ca

JUST FOLKS

I often find myself making judgements about people based on superficial things - how they look, how they act, what they say. I do this knowing that these kinds of indicators generally do not reveal the true person, and I make a conscious effort to keep an open mind.
The majority of human beings we encounter are simply trying to find a way to get some happiness from life.

JUST FOLKS
We’re always making judgements
About the other guy
This one thinks he’s really smart
That one’s very sly
Another thinks she’s really hot
One has too much to say
But in the end we’re all just folks
Trying to find our way.

You think she’s superficial
And he is just a bum
That one with the fancy car
Came right out of the slum
And little miss propriety
May not be what she seems
But we will likely never know
The stuff that makes their dreams

We’ll never know the way they feel
When they’re alone at night
Or how they really see themselves
With no one else in sight
The fronts that people show to you
are seldom who they are
Its just the mask they show the world
To cover up their scars

I don’t know the way I’m seen
I can’t guess your thoughts on me
Do I appear as cold as ice
Or do I seem too free
Do you think I’m way too bold
Or am I seen as stone
I only know that down inside
We’re each of us alone

Some wear that mask to hide the hurt
Of failures large or small
To show to everyone around
That they don’t care at all
Some only crave a little warmth
Some love to make them strong
But how we see the face they wear
Is very often wrong

Each one of us, and all of us
The best of us, and worst
Those that are blessed among us
And those that are most cursed
All have one thing in common
As we struggle through each day
For in the end we’re all just folks
Trying to find our way.

.

EMBERS

In a song, Iris Dement says "I think I'll just let the mystery be". She refers to the mystery of life, why are we here and where are we going. This poem deals with the same subject.

EMBERS
Softly,
softly steals the night across our lives
and robs us of the day
leaving in it’s place
a quiet darkening
before we are aware

Shadows,
shadows in our eyes and in our minds
we tiptoe through the gloom
needing to see
that which is unknown
and the why of it

Hoping,
hoping for a meaning to it all
a reason for our lives
beyond biology
can it all be chance
and we it’s product

Knowing,
knowing with a dawning clarity
that we have loved
that we are loved
and light will come
to see us through the dark
It is enough!

.

POOR OLD DAD

It seems that at some point in life, the child becomes the parent. I wrote this after hearing friends talking about their parents who were growing old, and it occured to me that it would likely be my fate (if I live long enough) to have my children thinking of me as "poor old dad" - HEAVEN FORBID!

POOR OLD DAD
I heard them whisper in the hall
one said out loud "he had a fall"
then glances, guilty, looking up
saw me, and sipped from empty cup.

My kids!

though 40 years now separates
them from the time of teenage dates
it seems as though they’re now the dad
and somehow I’m their little lad.

I once heard one of them relate
the story of the backyard gate
at midnight she had seen me lie
beside the gate, below the sky.
And when she spoke and took my hand
it seemed I didn’t understand
just who she was, or what to do
she really didn’t think I knew.

Gate at midnight, brilliant sky
contemplate these works on high
leave the world and fly in space
past and future in one place.
Surprising that it takes some time
to come back from that world sublime?
to claw back to the earthly place
to recognize a daughter’s face?

Its love I guess that makes them care
and worry that I’m "not all there"
they think that time has not been kind
and things are fuzzy in my mind.

Fuzzy in my mind? Not True!
crystal clear and sparkling new
insights, brilliant, clear, defined
leaving lesser things behind.

As for the fall, she’s right, I did
but had it happened to a kid
no one would even spare a thought
my years are making them distraught.
They judge my acts by their own gauge
but I’m now on a different stage
how can they see that all has changed
priorities have rearranged.
I’m looking now at better things
while they still reach for golden rings
they’re planning how to live, and I
I’ve lived, and now I wait to die.

HENPECKED!

Every body needs one of these people in their lives.This one has become --

My Nagger in Chief -- My Conscience --My Political Advisor -- My Dear Friend

HENPECKED
In the 50’s in The County
all the women in my life
picked on me and pointed out my flaws
your hair’s too long you drive too fast
you’ll never get a wife
where there’s trouble you are generally the cause!

Don’t smoke cigars
don’t drink that booze
don’t get into a fight
cut your hair
slow your speed
stop staying up all night

I had enough and moved away
to where I was not known
away from all those nagging dames
so I could be alone
(That didn’t work out either – I got married!
but that’s another story)

Now having reached this mellow time of life
when I’m a model of diplomacy
you’d think I would be free of stress and strife
with no one ever taking shots at me

----But it ain’t so----
cause my mother, aunties, cousins
have been rolled up into one
she’s like my conscience, at me all the time
but like them, it’s cause she loves me
at least I hope that’s true
and Carole, you know that
I MEAN YOU!

Conventional Wisdom

I suppose it is a sign of age that I worry about how and what today's children are learning. I think their academic education is likely okay, but what about the other aspects of learning that traditionally came from their elders - both family and friends?

CONVENTIONAL WISDOM
Where did the knowledge come from
It was passed on from father to son
Cause when those old geezers
Were talkin bout sin
There were kids just like me
Listnin in.

Conventional wisdom
The way we learned to be men
Conventional wisdom
Over and over again

some men just outside the feed store
to look you would think they were poor
with overhalls sagging
and dust on their boots
they told some tall tales
those old coots.

The boys were allowed to stand near
And the menfolk all knew we could hear
But you kept your mouth shut
About all that you heard
And you don’t tell your mom
Not a word.

They talked about women and war
And field crops and weather and more
We learned all about heiffers
And barns that burned down
And the best vet’nary
In the town

A Fargo was what one guy had
Some men drove a Chev like my dad
There were old Ford flat v8s
A few stake trucks with racks
And one rig was converted
Ran on tracks

It was there that we learned how to cuss
But a much bigger lesson for us
Was to keep our tongues civil
Where there’s women to hear
Lest you want a good box
On the ear

Looking back at that long ago day
How the men showed the youngsters the way
Today I just wonder
If the kids that I see
Learn only from friends
And tv

And if they hang ‘round with some men
Are the topics they hear teaching them
Whats right and whats wrong
The good and the bad
And what will they learn
From their dad

Where did the knowledge come from
It was passed on from father to son
Cause when those old geezers
Were talkin bout sin
There were kids just like me
Listnin in.

Conventional wisdom
The way we learned to be men
Conventional wisdom
Over and over again

I Gotta Get Out!

Occasionally we read about someone in a "fast lane" position who decides to chuck it in and return to a simpler and more soul satisfying life. This one attempts to put it in perspective.

I GOTTA GET OUT!

Now I know there are folks that will tell you
A city’s the best place to live
It’s crowded and noisy and vibrant and filled
With all kinds of pleasures to give
But I’m tired of the way that I’m living
And I’m sick of the way that I feel
I need to get out where there’s space all around
And back to where people are real

Many things that I once thought important
Those things that held me in thrall
Things like being accepted by the crowd that is in
And the clothes you cant buy at a mall
The air kisses I took for affection
The car that said I’ve got it made
Have been finally seen as just tinsel
But oh what a price has been paid

You don’t want bright lights in a nightclub
for the glitter is tired and sad
and the friends that you thought would stand by you always
leave when better prospects can be had
and the money you earn on that fast track
is all spent just to keep up some face
to impress all those people that don’t really care
you’re so easy to simply replace.

In the country you don’t need a name tag
People already know who you are
And you meet more friends in the general store
Than you do in a trendy wine bar
And when somebody says howrya doing
They will actually hear your reply
Cause the reason they asked was they wanted to know
And you talk over coffee and pie

Not everyone’s bad in the city
Not everyone’s good in a town
But the closer you get to the nature of things
There’s more friends that won’t let you down
And Gucci and Dior and YSL
Are not names that mean a whole lot
But Levi’s and John Deere and Stihl and Snap On
Are designers whose products are hot

Sooooo-

I’m trading in the city for a village
I’m trading in my beemer for a van
I’m trading in the fast life for a ride in the slow lane
And I’m getting back to who I really am

Has Anybody Seen My Dreams

Sadly, most of us settle for something much less than we thought we would when we were young and the world was there for us to take!

HAS ANYBODY SEEN MY DREAMS
Has anybody seen my dreams
I’ve noticed that they’re gone
Somewhere along the path I took
I must have laid them down

I used to keep them bright and clean
And let them guide my way
So sure that if I followed them
I’d never go astray

Has anybody seen my dreams
I’ve noticed that they’re gone
I don’t remember when it was
That I went on alone

I knew that I could be the one
That I could be the light
That I could outshine every star
That I could set things right

Has anybody seen my dreams
I’ve noticed that they’re gone
And I can’t seem to find them now
And nothing’s getting done

I go to work and do my job
But life is just a bore
The more I get the less I have
Is this what life is for

Has anybody seen my dreams
The ones I let slip by
I sure could use them here today
Without them I can’t fly

Has anybody seen my dreams
I’ve noticed that they’re gone
Somewhere along the path I took
I must have laid them down
My dreams
I must have laid them down

Light On A Distant Hill

While this is not exactly biographical, it is symbolic of those images from our early years, whatever they may be, that stick with us all our lives.

Light on a distant hill

A million miles, a million smiles
a million sorrows that knocked me down
home’s any place I just happen to stay
in another nowhere town
But deep in the mine of my memory
Lives a part of my long ago
And it springs to mind
When the day is unkind
Making me want to go
Faint but clear I see it still
one tiny light on a distant hill

An unpainted farmhouse,
poor stony ground
A barn that had seen its best day
Work worn hands on my mother
Dad ploughing the soil
Stopping on Sunday to pray
There was love in abundance
Despite those hard times
There was safety and warmth and content
But something inside
Drove me out of that place
And on to a road that was bent

As a child I recall coming back from the town
Sunday nights with the church service done
And as we turned on to that gray dusty road
Far ahead shone the light that meant home
It was always left burning
when we went away
In that weathered old house on the hill
And the world full of darkness
seemed brighter somehow
just because that small light was there still

As I grew older and started to roam
when I had no where else I could go
I could count on that light
That my mother kept lit
Just in case her loved boy
came back home
then it shone like a beacon
now it beckons me still
though my folks and the farm are long gone
a shopping mall stands
where our farm used to be
and ten thousand light bulbs are turned on

With each of the things that life dishes out
and the bad things we do on our own
we are all of us changed
at the end of the day
sometimes wearied of life to the bone
its never too late to make a new start
that’s what all the reformers would say
but there’s no going back
to undo things we’ve done
just tomorrow
and what’s left of today

A million miles, a million smiles
a million sorrows that knocked me down
home’s any place I just happen to stay
in one more nowhere town
But deep in the mine of my memory
Lives a part of my long ago
And it springs to mind
When the day is unkind
Making me want to go
Faint but clear I see it still
one tiny light on a distant hill
That long ago light on a faraway hill

FROM THE NEWSPAPERS

This was prompted by various newspaper stories. The murder of a young girl whose body was found at the lakeshore under rocks in garbage bags, a mother who was selling her young daughter, war orphans, etc. It intends to remind us just how easily the horrific can become "just another news item".

THE DAILY NEWS

They find the pieces covered up with stones
The garbage bags a shroud that she must wear
Her fragile flesh eroded from the bones
A victim of the crime whose guilt we share.

The smile so shy, the trust that all is right
Her innocence screams at you from the page
The little hand that needs to be held tight
The picture taken just before the rage.

She is dressed up in her princess dress today
Her eyes so dark, and little face so pale
With Mommy, who has told her what to say
Not knowing she’s a little girl for sale.

The children of the war, behind the wire
An empty bowl and gut, the empty eyes
The burning tropic sun their daily pyre
We’re glad we cannot hear their feeble cries.

She’s dressed in red and on the corner hooking
Her childhood gone when Uncle came to stay
Still innocent despite the way she’s looking
But God does not hear hookers when they pray.

Their faces in the papers every day
The children that we let them throw away
So common that it’s only daily news.
But haunted eyes stare out and say J’accuse.

And we are guilty
for we have thrown away the millstone!

TOAST & JAVA

Written with the 50's as a fond but distant memory!
TOAST & JAVA
My old chevy ran the back roads
she raised a cloud of dust
Two primed up doors and masking tape
To cover up the rust
A set of skins that had no tread
A gallon in the tank
A mouse of rye under the seat
No money in the bank
But we were cookin
Man, were we cookin
And getting old was never in our plan

Hey waitress, could we get some toast
A cup of java too
We havent got much money
So this will have to do

We’d cruise main street till midnight
One hand upon the wheel
One shoulder hunched against the door
To sharpen our appeal
The furry dice and purple lights
And cats eyes did the trick
some brylcreem kept our hair real smooth
though straight rye made us sick
But we were cookin
Man were we cookin
And getting old was never in our plan

Hey waitress could we get some toast
A cup of java too
We havent got much money
So this will have to do

Those straight pipes blared our message
Ride with us if you dare
The king was on the radio
And lust was in the air
The bubble skirts just missed the road
Wire wheels and spinners shone
We’d go out to the drive in
If our money wasn’t gone
But we were cookin
Man were we cookin
And getting old was never in our plan

Hey waitress could we get some toast
A cup of java too
We havent got much money
So this will have to do

Well somewhere down the line we scored
So all that good stuff worked
My buddy’s now a union man
And I’m an office clerk
My ride’s a foreign compact bug
A charming shade of gray
I suppose I’m really happy
Since my freedom slipped away
And now I’m cookin
I’m really cookin
In my super duper teflon fryin pan

Hey waitress could I get some toast
A cup of java too
I haven’t got much money
So this will have to do
Yeah, this will have to do
Man, this will have to do
Damn, this will have to do
But getting old still isn’t in my plan!

On the value of our Government

THE BIG G!
Thank goodness for our government
It’s lookin out for me
It gets most of my money
But the air I breathe is free
(so far)
The folks that we elected
Work hard for us you see
And they are so much wiser
Than we can ever be

They know ten million dollars
Is neither here nor there
Just numbers on some paper
There’s lots of it to spare
And if they keep a little bit
To sweeten up their day
There’s more where it has come from
Just dock it from our pay

Just look at how they understand
That industry must thrive
And if it spews pollution
To help it stay alive
So be it, but the rest of us
Will have to do our part
Don’t barbecue, don’t light a fire
And never ever fart

Yes, I am truly grateful that
They know what’s best for all
Imagine what would happen
If we had to make each call
About what happens in our lives
Who knows where that would end
We really need the government
To act as our best friend

There’s just one other thing to do
To make it better still
Lets get more levels working
We’d be glad to foot the bill
There’s other things that need control
They haven’t tackled yet
So we don’t have to think at all
That’s good as it can get

I’d like to think the pioneers
That came to this great land
Are looking down and smiling
At the success of their plan
They came to flee oppression
To set up democracy
And it has worked out really swell
Cause we are truly free

Thank goodness for our government
It’s lookin out for me
It gets most of my money
But the air I breathe is free
(so far)
The folks that we elected
Work hard for us you see
And they are so much wiser
Than we can ever be – ain’t they great!