Sunlight in the leaves – such a sweet reprieve. Like old mates the trees communicate.
Mellienia In the spruce, I see it, whisper in this second – a truth to me.
It ‘s hanging about my yard – the spirit so close,
From my window to my bed, my head, yet remote.
This little house is my earthly home
Where renegades, fade, young and old roam.
In the alley out back I catch verbal abuse;
I put the lexicon to more productive use.
Out front’s a training school where fire-fighters do push ups,
The wind in the leaves, the blossoms all shook up.
This dwelling, temporarily my home,
The beauty is getting into my bones.
I bought the lot but I do not own it,
Just the next caretaker glad to be shown it.
I sweat dollars and blood for this renovation.
Now I relax in a quiet elation.
It shifts in seasons like the leaves on the trees.
Fate’s wheel, do as you please
I feel native energy all over this place.
The former owner is a ghost. I never saw his face.
His name is Dale. His tools are in my garage.
The land is ancestral in an urban mirage.
The rabbits and birds, it’s their original home.
The transient world drifts past my zone.
They’re dealing next door but they mind their own business,
Separate in the same place, asking ‘what is this?’
Our mutual fortune is to live on the earth,
Whether or not you know the price it’s worth.
7 billion call this ball their home.
But when the clock strikes twelve – you go out alone.
Pawn your watch or libido on Stony Plain Road,
Where the populations stream like sun beams through my window.
I walk the turf. The dusk leaves no evidence.
I rest my head in this glimpse of permanence.
Good night old tree, though I know you don’t sleep.
Reminding me what I do and do not get to keep.
Music and Lyrics by Nicolas de Ruiter