Les's blog: "While the Reaper Tarries"

I hike the hills of Iaqua Where colors steal my breath away A dusty road, a verdant ridge A golden field, a swinging bridge Soft greens of every shade and hue A sky of iridescent blue An unexpected apple tree Where nature gives out snacks for free The apple, round and sweet and firm Try finding one without a worm What caused this giving tree to grow? The seed was planted long ago And tended by a calloused hand An act of faith I understand I learned it on the summer day I hiked the hills of Iaqua

Jesus Christ this world is not the place for you and me Your innocence was too profound for anyone to see They crowned you with a picker bush and nailed you to a tree How could they know that death would set you free? The world was pretty much the same the day that I was born I landed on this planet mid the children of the corn My wonder and my innocence w Were met with sneering scorn Until my heart was ragged and forlorn My little heart was broken and my little head was bowed I shrank in fear from all the slings and arrows of the crowd But damn it all, the bastards never heard me cry out loud I hid my dreams and visions in a shroud But now I’ve gotten older and I’m doing pretty well I feel as if I’m waking from a devil’s evil spell My heart is somehow healing and I have a tale to tell Let the devil and the crowd go straight to hell

Wake up! Get out of bed! Throw the shutters open Wide! Hell, shatter them! Smash the hinges! Laugh While the shutters explode and fall In pieces Slow motion to the ground Throw your arms wide open too To the sun To the wind To the rain To the lightning and thunder To the sleet and snow Accept it all Feel the blastfurnace heat Feel the icicle cold Let them touch your open heart Do not draw the world into your soul Thrust your soul into the world To fly To ride upon currents of clear air To soar among soft clouds And rise Laughing and weeping Like the sun Rising lovingly Over green mountains What was it you were protecting With those locked doors? Can you even remember? They were locked so long ago By degrees Until you forgot The smell of rain The feel of wet grass under bare feet The warm taste of a kiss Wake up!

My fingers feel worn woodgrain I grip the edge of the seat Crowds mill about People laughing People talking Red lipstick colored conversations Rough wool coated shoulders And fashionable shoes Click by The station is drafty and cold Smelling of diesel smoke I scoot my suitcase Under the bench Someone might steal it Yeah, right It’s old and threadbare And filled with underwear And socks Outside, the big engine rumbles Waiting for the clock Like a black bull pawing Before the charge They tell me it’s warm inside And brightly lit But it reminds me of a big snake You know the one The deceiver People are lining up to go The big doors open wide Bags rise from the plank floor The hugging and crying Is over now The line moves quickly The station regurgitates Spraying the long train With travelers The muscles in my legs tighten up I lean forward as if to rise With full intent But the rumbling rises instead Again I’ve missed the “All aboard!” The train starts slowly Lighted windows slide past I relax and lean back To wait

I remember a nation Where the things that are now cliché Were truth I remember the nation Of Robert Frost And Norman Rockwell It was a nation of heroes It was a nation of Yankee skeptics And Johnny Reb independents It was a nation of stubborn honesty (Except maybe while horse-trading) And great ingenuity It was a nation of liberty and justice Maybe not for all But we were learning It was a nation of respect A nation of neighbors A nation of friends It was a nation where people mattered More than programs A nation where a handshake Was a binding contract Because the people who were thus bound Were bound by character It was a nation where pride and self-respect Meant that mean, small thinking Was beneath us That dishonesty brought disdain And that there was something wonderful About being an American I remember a nation Where people worked hard Where they laughed and joked in the shade While eating box lunches Before rising, and stretching And moving out into a field to do something

Lightning and thunder bring an early snow Blue flashes out my window Split seconds bright as day And then the muttering black Inside A warm fire burns A softer glow We laugh over dinner Fingering glasses Of rich, red wine

Everyone knows what everyone knows You can’t change the world with a kiss and a rose Sometimes a man has to stand up and fight When others are wrong and he knows that he’s right Everyone knows that the peace must be won That change only comes at the point of a gun Everyone knows, and it’s well understood That “they” are all bad and “we” are all good Everyone knows “they” are after our blood That if we don’t fight them, they’ll come like a flood They’ll burn us and kill us and blow us away And basically do what we’re doing to “they” Everyone knows we must go there and fight We can torture and kill because “we” are all right We can hit them and kick them and shoot them and then The people left living will all be our friends Everyone knows that the answer is war We can do it again, we have done it before But peace never comes, and the violence grows I think someone should question what everyone knows

He built it the old way Paid attention to the grain of the wood Ran his hands across the face of each board You can feel what you can’t see He cut each joint with chisel and saw Dovetailed drawers and tenoned rails are best Fit them tight and check them with the fingers You can feel what you can’t see This one would be plain No fancy carvings or ornamentation The beauty would be hidden in the workmanship You can feel what you can’t see Drawers that slide smooth as silk Doors that close with a satisfying click Shellac applied with an ox-hair brush You can feel what you can’t see A thousand people would see it Generations of hands would touch it Maybe only one or two would be touched back If you pay attention You can feel what you can’t see

The world is a violent place Predator and prey square off One survives One dies in agony Blood stains the ground everywhere The dance of tooth and claw The dance of death Is the story of primal passion With blinding speed A life is snuffed out like a candle flame But Eve and Adam ate of the tree Their eyes were opened and they saw They separated in their minds Good from evil Light from darkness They discovered love and peace But there within them Lurks the beast, the tearer of flesh His passions and his jaws Are powerful enough to kill And kill, he does The followers of peace are easy prey Every day they must decide Whether to fight back, and be what they hate Or sacrifice, to show the way

The mountain spoke to me I lay upon her breast Safe under a wool blanket in my bed In my house In my father’s house A butter colored moon peeked in Through wavy glass A light breeze whispered Stars danced High above my father’s house And the trees The trees told secrets in the night And sacrificed their bodies Their lives To keep us warm in winter When good food cooked On the steaming stove The smell coming in through the nose And settling in the belly Of my father’s house I could not know or understand The whispered words Of mountain and tree But they haunt me still And catch in my throat I cannot speak them But I know them Like I know myself Like I know each board and corner of My father’s house