photograph by Bo Putnam
And so it was, on a beautiful clear day near the end of a long and twisting road a mile before the end of the western world, The Prodigal, upon his long awaited return, took a walk through the fields of the kingdom with The Mad King who was digging a hole to the other side of the world and all the while screaming, "I shall hold The Pope accountable for his actions because I KNOW things and I'm going to write a letter soon!" "Yes, yes" nodded The Prodigal as he soon realized nothing much had changed here since he’d left.
Soon after, The Prodigal and his knights, brothers reunited, assembled once again in the great hall to hold court in honor of days since past. They looked deep within and offered their gifts to the collective heart, still beating steady and strong after all this time, while The Keeper of The One, his smile gleaming like a child inside a man, held it in his hand just tightly enough so it would not fly away; so proud was he of the friend he had brought this day, a gentleman of southern smiles and clever sayings in soft mumblings almost indecipherable. Together they all gave tribute to those no longer here with reverent prayer in song.
It was a day where some read poetry alone in the corner and searched for new ways to describe love and pain while battling the demons of The Great Unspoken for the cause of the greater good, where The Gypsy Queen appeared with a smiling wolf behind dark eyes, where beautiful sad dancers claimed their space and tried to understand why love changes partners, but most importantly it was a day to help all remember that the best way to honor the past is to honor each day.
When the celebration was done The Prodigal thought, “What a strange and joyous place, this palace, this land, where you can keep the clouds away if you let your passion dance burn hot and raise your voice in song,” and he knew this came to him from the spirit of this ancient valley that will never change no matter who works this land or who calls the tune here on a clear day near the end of the long and twisting road a mile before the end of the western world.
Ken Owen Van Niddy Press October 26, 2013
goddamn, man! you're good. really ;like the third paragraph, but the whole thing, really....
ReplyDeleteThat's pretty much it, yep.
ReplyDeleteDear Keeper of the One - I should have started following your printed words much sooner. I'm so caught up in raising my own voice that it sometimes drowns out other worthier ones. Love all of you very much- the Keeper, the Teller, and your Irish soul.
ReplyDelete