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What Now?

When a man has traveled far places,

Leaving footsteps on foreign land and distant shores.

 

When he has walked over lofty rugged mountains,

Wandered his valleys and fished his many streams.

 

When he has sown his seed, nurtured his offspring,

Spoken his thoughts and satisfied his thirst for knowledge.

 

When he has fought his battles, ran his life’s long races,

Feels his flame grow dimmer and the horizons of his vision weaken.

 

When dreams fade and hopes are but a study in futility,

And he no longer does for himself, but must rely upon others.

 

Growing older, feeling weaker,

Lapsing into periods away from reality — —

 

Feeling less and less like a man.

What Now?

My Dream

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

 

I dreamt of hunting buffalo

And long grass shimmering in the sun.

I saw cold, crystal clear mountain streams,

With its banks bordered by wild flowers.

Away up high, almost a speck against the light blue sky,

A bald eagle surveys his realm.

Although it’s spring time in my dream,

The distant, hazy, purple mountains

Still wear their caps of white.

The air is clean and fresh

And filled with the smell of growing things.

The white-trunked aspens

Keep sentinel in their quiet beauty.

Life is simple but hard.

Man fulfilled his dreams by the strength of his hand,

Sweat from his brow, and cunning of his mind.

He became one with his surroundings.

The world was sustained by natural order,

And it was good.

When I awoke,

I realized that I’m but a dinosaur

Transplanted into a modern time and world.

 

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