Saturday, August 20, 2011

Stuart Dybek

Click to enlarge.



From Streets In Their Own Ink.

1 comment:

  1. by Red Hawk; Feb 2, 1996

    From The Way of Power, published by Hohm Press, Prescott, AZ

    The Wild Dog
    Mind resists the orderly,
    thinks freedom is in thinking
    any thought it wishes.

    Like a wild dog who has felt the whip,
    the mind snarls
    at the hand that tames it, resists

    the collar of Attention, strains
    at the leash of meditation, claws
    and runs to avoid discipline.

    A wild dog can be tamed by the whip
    but it will turn on you and
    at the first chance, run for it;

    it will never be good company.
    It may hunt, but
    it will mangle the bird.

    Better the dog who by gentle patience
    Is shown the way over and over.
    That dog will one day lick your hand,

    Will be devoted to you and serve
    at quiet command, will lay down
    its life at your feet

    and when it fetches the bird
    no feather will be ruffled,
    no toothmark upon the flesh.

    Alex at the Waterfall
    He is 7 and as old
    as they come
    and one day he and his
    present mother
    are high over Falls Creek
    when Alex gets to the overlook
    and will not go close to the edge.
    Why, he is asked.

    Because, he says,
    I do not want to die
    young, before my time;
    I don't want to get shot,
    or run over, or fall off a cliff.

    I want to live my whole life and
    die when I'm supposed to die,
    not before.

    Have you died young before,
    in another time?
    Yes, he said, but
    I had different parents then.
    You're the best parents I've
    ever had,

    he said
    and he sat down on a rock and
    he did not go over to the edge.

    ReplyDelete