CoffeeShop Blues: 2015 Traveler's Edition - Page 67

Jeremy Frost I wanted to do something significant with thirty-eight years of reading The work arrogant Professor Ghose had us read in freshman English I intended burying the book somewhere in the Grand Canyon But we could only carry so much on the mule I learned god is a mule named Snoopy carrying me 21 miles to the depths of the canyon and back White as a cloud descending the trail from dust to dust I did not overcome my fear of heights But instead embraced the mule while watching its hoofs Peel away layers of two billion year old earth skin... I’m not here. My ancestors are not here. Dinosaurs are not here. What remains? Devil’s backbone... Devil’s switchback... So much beauty in evil and pain Your joy is your sorrow comes to my mind again In the Indian Meadow I as self come undone The colors hued in stone swirl a temptress’ tale I am two billion years old Fire and ice...meek and brave... I have trouble knowing where the canyon wall ends and I begin. World without end I without beginning The stream’s white noise explodes my veins The skies pure blue a musical thought becoming a symphony I just am... A grand canyon...hollow...empty...without the need for reason For a brief moment I don’t know if I’m a mule A shard of granite...a shadowy willow lining a creek bed... I don’t know who I am or what I am as I strive for the bottom of the canyon Reality is I must reassemble my self Or I will fall off this damn mule! 67