Rugged Tracks (article) by Odin odin@aflx.com on AuthorsDen

As our culture strives to resist its demise, most want to do the right thing. Perhaps the revisiting of a prosetry essay can provide some additional thought on what there is to protect. Rugged Tracks Astride his father’s shoulders, Like a double-decker bus, There was always what his father saw, And the child’s gaze beyond. They learned together What their senses taught them of reality. There were so many hills his father climbed, The boy seeing what was ahead on horizons, The father focused on firm footholds, Following trusted forest imprints, Relying on tradition’s habitude. This father is long gone now. This boy of shoulder wonderment Has grown wise of rugged tracks Leading to this day. The day… A stormy December afternoon Staring through a digital lens Atop a mid-town observation deck, The boy now a man Stares outs across a skyscraper landscape, A winter-tundra his father never had to pioneer. Realizing the Now of navigating Relies little on the primitive tracks, When plant, Animal, Rock, Weather, Parts of the undeniable whole Determined shelter and food, Life and death. Wisdom, The oft missing essence of success, Impacts little of today’s aspiration, Whose awareness respects not learned footprints, Nor hardened determination To stay true to a right direction, Instead… All too often Success honors but bushwhacked obstacles, The opportunity to conquer any and all, The razed aside, Inert and live, Banished and dead, Leaving many to query What lens can sharpen that which isn’t there?

Oh, how we love to point the finger. Is it not the time to demand of our minds that we accept the blame? Not them. Like it or not, we are truly all on

As I reflect on poets and story tellers from this site I’ve read, I often think of their daring to break out of the box, to seek new understanding of

To be a poet, a novelist addressing life that matters, a short story writer creating anecdotal gems needing exposure, is to be unsatisfied with the st

Reviewed by Jane Noponen Perinacci

Reviewed on August 25, 2018

I'm loving that last line, Odin! It says so much! This poem grabbed me immediately! I like the way you use your imagery to project then, now, and.......your last line!! I so enjoyed this!

Love ya!

Jane

Reviewed by E Phillips

Reviewed on August 18, 2018

A boy on his father's shoulders is a great visual for grasping how knowledge is expanded and progress is made along many fronts. The bushwhackers are tyrants, religionists, and the self-absorbed plutocrats who see themselves through the distorted lenses of megalomaniacal insanity. Killing them would be justifiable homicide, akin to standing your ground in self-defense.

Reviewed by Ronald Hull

Reviewed on August 10, 2018

My final thought was of Luke Skywalker riding on his father's Jedi Knight shoulders driving through a valley on a strange and beautiful planet with two suns slowly setting in the late afternoon. I believe you are right about "new pathways" for fathers to follow and "new wisdom" for them to impart to their sons who ride on their shoulders and see beyond the horizon, "just a little bit further," each generation.

Ron