Way back in the woods down paths and trails
Where snakes live and some bobcats and deer
Soldiers and some of their family on a bluff above
The fertile valley and what the English interpreted
Was named so by Native Americans because there
Were so many crows that used the tall hemlocks that
Once interspersed the Valley as a natural sanctuary
Resting and nesting there above the large stream and
Today one may wonder why a graveyard is in such a spot
And when people don't know - they speculate in tales
But, of course, there's a history that explains the ghosts
The land there has a love-fest with these strong spirits
Shape-shifters, mixed blood of French, Irish and Indians
Homesteads, raids, wild animals, revolutionary war heroes
And further east outside of Philadelphia there's a graveyard
It is there I did sit and read some of Wallace Fowlie's book
Modern French Poets and slept a bit under a tree in grass
With old tombstones and monuments and a sky blue sky
There's something a graveyard gives that's ... ... ... ...
Of life and death there's the appreciation of energy and of
Life and death itself --- the living --- the dying --- life.
Death. Alive we strive for what?! Driving down the highway
With the windows down and the river on one side of me and
A concrete block wall overgrown with a variety colorful weeds
Yeah, just today, listening to Dylan's Knocking on Heaven's Door
How it sweetly, poetically reminds us of our mortal connection
And there's something in the unknown knowledge of death that
Makes us want to live and be so alive - And yet by be-ing oh so
Alive there's something that makes us wanna die and maybe OD
Maybe in an unfinished basement cutting your veins longways
And bleeding blood - Loving life and wanting death with a smile.
Before the Sun Rises - Sunday October 5, 2008
Best of the Roses,
Giovanni French
mystrawhat.com
theneweverydaymedia
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