I Am Awakened
By g.l. bass (the ghostbear still lives)
November 2000-ed. February 2005

Blue Palms Of late afternoon sky
Stretch, push, and ease,

Thick, dark snow clouds,
Rolled like blankets
Back beneath Southeastern skies.

Long finger streams,
Bright beams,
Out from the day’s final
Horizon eye,
Softly let go
Of the day’s
Last glow,
Amidst an auburn goodbye.

The final vision
Of the day settles,
Umbrella streaks,
Streams of gold and amber,
Down out of seams
From horizon’s
Fading eye,
As if the day
Gives up its soul
In a last passionate

Atop a snow laden,
Harvested corn field,
Plowed into row upon row
Of a farmer’s symmetrical plan,
I wait, wonder,
And breath in,
The last act
Of the day,
Settled upon the land.

Golden sun streams
Reach down
Out of western sky
And paint sun’s last goodbye
Across canvas
Of caramel cattail,
Brown Marsh reed,
And bronze pompous grass.
The woodlands adorn
An evening gown,
Fresh in amber warm.
Across the river
Ice glistens,
High snow ridges
Bare their white soul,
The river gleams
A mirror of earth and sky,
I cannot touch,
Fading all too soon,
Deep into the
Sun’s final

I breathe deep cold breaths.
I smell the fresh earth,
I feel the river,
The Marshland,
And swallow the breath
Of all that is kissed upon me.
As the day leaves,
The wind sighs,
Out from deep inside
The forest,
A stark, lonely cry
Rises above the marsh,
Echoes across woods,
Fields, and farms,
And finally dies
Into Western skies.

The howl of the Coyote
Falls, and crawls,
Into the blood of the Marsh,,
Into the blood of the river,
Into the blood of the woods,
I am awakened,
As if my spirit’s released
To crawl out -
Down on all fours,
Across the night,
And deep into the forest.

I am awakened,
To the hand of the land
Laid heavy on my soul,
I am awakened
To my heart
In rhythm
With the pulse of the land.
I am awakened,
My spirit free
It flies out upon the night
To meet the spirit of my brother
The Coyote.