Deep in the primeval forest
Way past the back of beyond
A cheery glow in a secret glen welcomes the traveler anon
Outside the sphere of the campfire
The shadows dance around
Our faces contemplative—no cares and certainly no frowns
The fragrant logs pop and hiss
And slowly disappear
We think we control nature and so have lost our fear
I step out in the darkness
And look up to the sky
Beholding God’s creation and still I wonder why
What does it all mean?
Is there anyone who cares?
It seems to me the dark power has set these little snares!
For while I scan the heavens
A shooting star comes to earth from sky
God’s perfect picture, sent to me before I die
With so much self-importance, we strut across the stage
We disregard the wisdom, of all the ancient sages
Hoping that our childish acts will somehow last the ages
What measure of a man?
Does he leave anything at all?
Or can he only face death, standing straight and tall?
We live to help each other
A kindly word, a little smile
Giving love and helpful friendship, to each other all the while
And so seems it must be
For us to pass on to the night
Some how I believe, it gives us second sight
And if I could live forever more
And pass each day as one
It would be around a campfire, sharing with all until we’re done…
For Jimmy Thomas, September 7, 2009
Chuck Connors, September 7, 2009