MEMORIES OF AN OUTDOORSMAN

 

 

 memories of an outdoors man

 

 

by

 

 

frank a vollmer

BLACK PHEASANT

 

 

WE WERE SURPRISED WHEN WE FOUND IT

 

THE CARBONIZED REMAINS OF THE PHEASANT

 

THE FIRE HAD BEEN INTENSE

 

BUT SHORT LIVED

 

CREATED BY THE STORM

 

EXTINGUISHED BY THE STORM

 

BUT THE INTERIM HAD BEEN EXTREME

 

FED BY THE DEBRIS OF THE DROUGHT

 

SO REAL

 

IT LOOK LIFELIKE

 

EXCEPT FOR THE COLOR

 

IT LOOKED ASLEEP

 

BUT WHEN WE KNELT TO TOUCH IT

 

IT FELL APART

 

AND FOUR CHICKS

 

RAN OUT FROM UNDER

 

PERHAPS

 

BECAUSE

 

WE HAD SEEN ENOUGH OF DEATH THAT DAY

 

WE WERE MOVED TO TEARS

 

 

SHE COULD HAVE FLOWN

 

SHE COULD HAVE SAVED HERSELF

 

SHE STAYED

 

GATHERED HER BROOD

 

UNDER HER WINGS

 

AND BROUGHT THEM THROUGH THE FIRE

 

WE GATHERED THE CHICKS

 

THEY WOULD SURVIVE

 

REST WELL MOTHER

 

YOU HAVE TAUGHT US

 

WELL

 

Rowboats

 

THE BOATS WERE GATHERED AROUND THE DOCK

 WONDERING WHERE THEIR SAILORS WERE

 

SOON THEY WOULD BE PUT AWAY

 

IT WAS THE TIME

 

FOR THE PUTTING AWAY

 

THE TOYS OF SUMMER

 

THE TREES HAD DRESSED FOR ONE LAST DANCE

 

THE HAWK GOOSE AND BLACKBIRD

 

DECORATED THE SKY WITH THEIR PASSING

 

THE LOON

 

IT SEEMS JUST RECENTLY BORN

 

WAS PRACTICING TAKEOFFS

 

AWKWARD AND UNGAINLY

 

MAKING THE TRANSITION FROM LAKE TO OCEAN

 

AS AWKWARD AND UNGAINLY

 

AS MOST TRANSITIONS ARE

 

 THE LAKE

 

FLAT AS A MIRROR

 

SENT A RIPPLE

 

TO PASS BENEATH THE DOCK

 

WHERE I SAT

 

ENJOYING THE WARM FALL DAY

 

RESTING FROM THE PUTTING AWAY OF TOYS

 

WAS IT AN ANSWER FROM GOD

 

FOR A PRAYER I'D SAID

 

AND ANSWERED

 

AS SO MANY PRAYERS ARE ANSWERED

 

WHEN THE WORLD IS IN TRANSITION

 IN THE MIDST OF CHANGE

 

WE SEE A LEAF IN FLIGHT

 

ACTING AS IT WERE ENJOYING THE MOMENT

WE LIFT WITH THE LEAF

 

WE FEEL ITS JOY AND FREEDOM

 

SO THAT WE ARE MOVED TO TAKE A STICK

  RIPPLE THE WATER

 SENDING A THANK YOU

 

BACK TO GOD

 

 

Brook

 

 NO BROOK IN MID WINTER THAW

 

EVER LOOKS THE SAME

 

FROM ONE BROOK TO ANOTHER

 

THEY NEVER LOOK THE SAME

 

 

 

EVEN THE SAME BROOK

 

DAILY VISITED

 

NEVER LOOKS THE SAME

 

IT’S AS IF GOD HAD HAD A ZEN MOMENT

 

A SATORI

 

AN ENLIGHTENMENT

 

 

 THEN HAD WRITTEN

 

IN AN ARABESQUE STYLE

 

UPON THE ICE THAT COVERED THE BROOK

 

WHERE HE TOUCHED IT

 

IT BECAME WATER

 

EACH ONE DONE

 

WITH THE CASUALNESS

 

OF AN ARTIST

 

PLYING HIS TRADE

 

EACH ONE OF GOD’S CREATIONS

 

IS UNIQUE

 

AS WE ARE UNIQUE

 

TAKEN FROM NOTHINGNESS

 

TO BEING

 

BY GOD’S WRIT

 

BY HIS WORD

 

BY HIS NEED TO BE LOVED

 

SO HE CREATES LOVERS

 

THAT HE MIGHT GAZE UPON THEM

 

AS I GAZE UPON THE BROOK

 

THE DIFFERENCE IS

 

THAT GOD WISTFULLY HOPES

 

THAT THE LOVER

 

WILL LOVE HIM IN RETURN

 

 

Snapshot #1

 

BLACK WATER SWIRLS AROUND THE PIER

 THE SUN HAS GONE FOR THE DAY

 GULLS FLY SEEKING REFUGE

 BUSY LIGHTS DOT THE HARBOR

 

A TIRED FISHING BOAT

 COMES CHUGGING IN

 

BLACK WATER SWIRLS AROUND THE PIER

  

Unicorn

 

 

HOW BEAUTIFUL THE MIST IN THE MOUNTAIN VALLEYS

 

IT LIES ON THE LAKE LIKE A COMFORTER

 

IT CALLS ME TO THE WOODS TO WALK IN IT

 

IT SEEMS TO GO BACK TO THE BEGINNING

 

WHEN THE WORLD WAS NEW

  NOT QUITE DRY

 

WHERE ONE COULD WALK THE FOGGY PATH

  SEE THE WORLD IN A DIFFERENT LIGHT

 

PATHS THAT ONE KNEW WELL

 

TOOK ON A ESPECIAL APPEARANCE

.

 

WITH PEARLS OF WATER

 

LINING EVERYTHING

 

IT WAS A TIME WHERE ONE MIGHT EXPECT

 

AROUND THE BEND

 

TO MEET A UNICORN

 

A THING OF BEAUTY

 

IT WAS EASY TO GET LOST

 

NOT PAYING ATTENTION

 

CARRIED AWAY BY THE DREAM LANDSCAPE

 

EASY TO GET LOST

 

A RULE OF OUTDOORS IS

 

WHEN LOST STAND STILL

 

SOMEONE WILL FIND YOU

 

DON'T WANDER FURTHER AWAY

 

THERE IS A RULE IN SPIRITUALITY

 

THAT SAYS

 

WHEN YOUR MIND IS CLOUDY

  GOD SEEMS FAR AWAY

 

KEEP DOING WHAT YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE DOING

 TILL THE FOG LIFTS

 IT'S CALLED THE DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL

 

AS I STOOD LOST

 IN A SLEEPLESS NIGHT

 WITH A MIND THAT WOULD NOT SLOW DOWN

 

LEARNING NAMES OF MEDICINES

  PROCEDURES

  THE WORD ONCOLOGY

 

HOW WE DESTROY

 TO REBUILD

 

HOW I MUST SWALLOW THE WITCHES BREW

 THAT MIGHT CAUSE OTHER PROBLEMS

 WHICH WOULD NEED SEPARATE CURES

 

A FOGGY NIGHT IN MY MIND INDEED

 

BUT I WAS NOT ALONE

 NEVER HAD BEEN

 

FOR JESUS CAME AND SAID

 

BE AT PEACE AND STAY WHERE YOU ARE

 

YOU WERE AND NEVER WHERE ALONE

 

YOU ARE IN GOOD HANDS

 THOUGH I MAY SEEM FAR FROM YOU

 

WHEN MEDICINE AND SICKNESS CLOUD YOUR MIND

 

I HAVE NEVER LEFT

 

 WHEN THE FOG LIFTS

 I SHALL RETURN

 MOUNTED ON A UNICORN

 

I SHALL SAY TO YOU

 CLIMB UP SINGER MAN

WE HAVE MUCH BEAUTY STILL TO DO

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

WE ARE LIKE TREES IN GOD’S EYES

 WITH ONE EYE HE SEES US

 

IN SPRINGTIME FINERY

 

FLOWERED

 

 LEAFED

 MOVING

 

TO THE WIND OF THE SPIRIT

 

WITH THE OTHER EYE

 

HE SEES US AS WINTER TREES

 

LIMBS BROKEN

 

BATTERED BARK

 

ROOTS EXPOSED

 

MAYBE SOME TRUNK ROT

 

SETTING IN

 

 HE LOVES US

 

NOT FOR WHAT WE ARE

 

BUT WHAT WE CAN BECOME

 

IF AT THE END

 

OR ANYTIME

 

WE ARE LIKE THE GOOD THIEF

 

WHO CRIES

 

BE MERCIFUL TO ME A SINNER

 

I HAVE NOT BOURNE FRUIT

 

NOR PROVIDED SHADE

 

NOR GIVEN SHELTER TO BIRDS

 

HE

 

SEEING OUR SUMMER TREE

 

OF PROMISE

 

SAYS

 

WELCOME HOME

 

 

.TREES

 TREES


WHEN I GROW TO OLD TO LIVE

I'D LIKE TO BE A TREE
WHERE LOVERS SIT UNDER

TALKING ABOUT THEIR FUTURE

AND PERHAPS CARVE NAMES

I WONDER IF IT WILL TICKLE OR HURT

I WOULD BE A REMINDER OF LIFE

FROM SPRING'S EARLY GREENING

TO MATURE SHADE

TO THE END TIME COLOR

FINALLY

THE SKELETON

SHOWING ROOTS GRIPPING DEEP INTO THE EARTH

 ARMS STRETCHING UP TO GOD

I WOULD BE A PLACE WHERE CHILDREN PLAY

MY BRANCHES WOULD BE LOW FOR CLIMBING

IMPORTANT

THAT BRANCHES BE LOW ENOUGH FOR CLIMBING

WHERE YOUNG ONES GO TO DREAM OF BEING OLDER

OLD ONES GO TO DREAM OF BEING YOUNGER

OR MAYBE NOT

CONTENT WITH WHERE THEY ARE

SO MANY STORIES TO TELL

BE QUIET AMONG THE TREES AT NIGHT

YOU CAN HEAR THEM RUSTLING OUT THEIR STORIES

OR IN THE MOONLIGHT NIGHTS OF WINTER

YOU CAN SEE THEM

TALKING IN SIGNS TO EACH OTHER

YES I'D LIKE TO BE A TREE

BUT PLANT ME NEAR A SCHOOL

 WHEN THEY COME TO SIT IN ME

WE'LL HAVE LOTS OF STORIES TO SHARE