It is almost sixteen thousand days since first breath,
Thick as the swordgrass grown
In my new garden, I drew.

Uncounted oracles since,
Bone cracks in fire,
Paint washed off rock.
Lives lost in earth:

I 've seen too many pass,
In too few years,
Lost in this valley of time,
With all these peaks of
Far too rapidly expanding universes all  around;

I 've seen too many pass, never
Wondering what grain of sand,
What bubble existence, 
They rode on today.

Many times I've stood upon a watershed; Growing up between five rivers' start. I've longed to travel, Longed to love, Longed to have "a life": Once in a dream, Dreamt on Granite Creek's September bed, I heard the moon whisper "...Far lands..." , And I followed for a while... Longing to return, all those days. I did; And now it's just a long dark watch, Once again.

The years go by in a day sometimes: Each fall, another Winter holding in its arms, And Spring at bay; I wish I could say... "I shall arise and go now" To scale these mountains once again, To the sky!

But no longer. Only peaks of the mind, Peaks of time stretched taut, May I scale, in heartsore longing To scale once again the peaks Of the Earth . I know you see this too, This mark of change I carry unchanging, This Death's head I bear atop my shoulders, This bare, raw feeling - This unbending cripple's limb. And so I sing my end-song:

" Cricket Creek, where I belong, Cricket Creek, a lulling song, Cricket Creek, all night long: I'll sleep in a pebbles shade, Cricket Creek, all night long, Cricket Creek, a lulling song, Cricket Creek, alone among The stars, my bed is made."

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