The Arts - Poetry

The Bowron Lakes - by Jason

The Bowron Lakes

Listen, listen closely,
Listen to the river roaring,
Hear the endless beating of the rocks,
Focus in on the rare sounds of life.

Screw that.

Open your eyes,
Life is all around us,
Trees shoot up from the nurtured soil,
Plants blossom,
Ducks ferry across the river,
Birds soar the skies,
And the bears keep their distance from the humans.
All this from a river.

Breath in.
Smell the freshness of the air,
Take in the smell of an class A provincial park,
Forget about the city life, forget about school, forget about the rules, forget about politics,
This is what you lived for,
To be surrounded by everything you are allergic to.

Grab on.
Lean against a tree while you give in to the irresistible urge to sneeze,
Feel the texture of the tree,
The complexity of Mother Nature.
Just like when you were a baby, grab and feel everything,
Ponder over how all of this was made,
Think about how life was created,
What is the meaning of life?

Wake up!
You are hungry and that’s all that matters,
Shove food into your mouth as you sit around the stove,
Taste the pigments of dirt in your food,
Drink your river water.

Oh, you’re not full yet?
Well too bad, that’s all you are having today.
Go to sleep with the crave for food,
Dream about your house filled with snacks,
Pass out in your sleeping bag as you wish for your favourite snack.
Good morning.
Canoe down the river with a empty stomach,
You’re weak, you’re bonking, you’re not focused, and you are going down a river.
Welcome to the Bowron Lakes.