By John Clise
(Editor’s note: I wrote this originally August 23, 2013. Thought I would share some of my old stuff as we get going again. It was completed at 9:44 p.m. that day. It was probably hot out. That’s about all I have for this reflection note.)
Chapter one.
Born on the wind, living somewhere between this life and the next, not quite here but not quite gone either, dreaming of the stars, at home on the sea, there’s a hymn within, a mile and a wave, heart behind a castle wall, eyes full of life, shadows on the wall, dusty trail, sweet lullabies, see his face even though he’s walking away, leaves drift to earth from trees, climbing to the mountain tops, soaring from there to the skies, showing the scares of life but still living, clear conscience, clear mind, love’s the safety net, traction made, amazed at sunrise, beautiful life, greater love.
Chapter two.
Riding down a dusty road, flying around the dark side of the moon, dreaming of rainbows, remembering the simple days of home, a lady sings with perfect pitch, hearts race into the night, familiar sounds creep from the inner chambers of your mind, drifting across the milky way without a care, checking the time even though it makes no difference, the rabbit is already on the run, milk shakes for everyone, no fear left, huddled around a fire, a single solitary light, nothing left to fight for, a mystery man in a tan coat and old hat, last call to board, out of cell range, on the wide open range, reading a think book in the house you grew up in, falling away, ice tea in a tall glass, trumpets blaring everywhere, just a short nap, plane crash, some survivors, brilliant sunrise.
Chapter three.
Watched you walk away, cats chasing shadows, a Fourth of July picnic, never felt so free, canning jars full of memories, kicking a can, raindrops on flowers petals bring spring, childhood friends, first loves fade away, is it gravel or shale, bright yellow sun, cruising the boulevard, shared a sweet kiss at the bus stop, always free to fly away, fishing with a bobber on the river, whiskey in a can, see you around the bend, the fall creeps up, letters dated from 1964, the light in your eyes, beef stew for two, pool hall hustler runs the table, coming back strong, God’s love for you, blinking lights ahead, just ahead of the avalanche, fancier than a $2 bill, new life birthed, save yourself, clean sheets on Saturday.
Chapter four.
Remember the first time, the man on the moon knows, chariot to the final rest, forget about everything, working 80 hours a week, sailing on into the night, scrambled words seem to make some sense, he makes laugh, dusty transits, ill fitting jeans, million dollar smile, twinkle in your eyes, seeing the light, holding on for one more day, pictured in an old-school lid, holding nothing back, gum shoe on the case, she shaved her legs, apple blossoms, cops lurking in the shadows, broken hearts mend, some thoughts are best left behind, scars make you a survivor, twitching eyes, mind readers weep.
Chapter five.
Hearts held in chains, arms outstretched to meet the sun, love like a child, the sweetest brown eyes, bag packed behind the door, he died 40 years ago, falling flat on your face, lawyers tend to the details, counting out of state license plates, warm breeze on our faces, storm clouds roaming near, greedy intentions masked in love, mowing the grass every Saturday morning at 9 a.m., searching for the Word of God, one more kiss to remember you, a place at the dinner table, carnival excitement at hand, riding the river foam, the new news is new, weeding the garden grandpa’s way, food filled cupboards, holding hands, dancing under the stars, the strongman dropped it, the winding road there, at station keeping.
Clise's Cornucopia 