Awake in dream

once more to breath

the north and south winds

at stone stream crossing

with the old sounds

of hoof and paw,

along with human foot,

splashing across

the green algae-covered rocks

where large snails clung in June.

You knew them all,

beyond the body human,

the names and faces and personalities

each of cows and bulls and

dogs and horses and people,

Judy the gentle broken horn,

Gladys the aggressive,

Mamie the white,

Winnie the strangely pensive starer,

but to name

a few notable cows,

you and your brother

with cattle canes,

all the frangrances,

the green manure,

cattle hide and urine,

crushed fresh grass of spring,

the stinging bite of ragweed in summer,

the smell of fresh water

in crystalline rays

of winter's ice breakage

where the heavy animals passed.

How wickedly pleasurable

were the mild dangers,

suddenly nose to nose

with the bullsnake

under the fence

and the poison ivy

he crawled out of.

The very land accuses

with the knowledge

of what you have done.

You have forsaken,

sold your heritage,

sold the stone stream crossing,

the security of ancient ways,

for laconic defined

peace of the new,

the cancer moving across the land,

you taker of false ease,

you traitor,

you Judas.

Away with you.

You have your money.

And how to sleep now,

but very deeply,

hardening the callous

that hollows in the soul,

joining in the slow

masses that march

toward another crossing,

sleep deeply so deeply

less the knowledge of what was

entangles the little

human needs

like remembering only

the deep fulfilling warmth

at stone stream crossing,

and so to dream,

to finally

only dream.

Copyright 2009, Jerry W. Engler