TWO BOYS ON WINTER SOLSTICE

PUTTING THE MOUNTAIN TO REST

for Alex and Josh

Being the last ones on the mountain.

Getting their assignments.

Hanging out. They'll know it's dark.

Asking about the word lost.

Taking them out where they are lost.

Away from their buddies.

Away from parents.

How could it be any darker than this?

Making them wait.

How could anybody find their way

in all this dark?

This is about waiting, too.

Advent. Keep your ski boots on.

What we don’t talk about.

Skiing. How to turn.

Where to hold the shoulders.

What you’re doing right and wrong.

We don't do any of that.

Grandpa Jim

26 December 2017

POEM FOR TWO 12-YEAR OLD BOYS

WHO CALL THEMSELVES MUSKETEERS

ON WINTER SOLSTICE

--for Alejandro Zepeda Reyes and Joshua Anthony Meiser

The boys know each other.

They've winter camped in the camper on my pickup,

and built snow caves at midnight, but haven't been

together in two years. They're 12,

at the end of boyhood, and when

they get into the car for the drive up the mountain,

they don't say ten words until they

get their ski boots on. Their first words

to me, "Can we go?"

They learned mountain skills

from me and a snowboard program

at White Pass, Cascade Mountains.

Snowboarders with a tag: SOS.

Young volunteers with

a course of mountain study

for city sidewalks. Core Values.

Courage, face fears, and thrive,

being yourself without being stupid.

I'm down with the prairie dogs.

Discipline. Massive dreams, and a roadmap.

Pathways. Hard stuff. Not giving up.

Integrity. The right thing without anyone asking.

Using your head with the big word, wisdom.

Accepting advice.

Wisdom is also taking risks.

Getting the Grandpa thing.

Seeing beauty. Stop and open your eyes.

Grandpas have nothing to do with genetic code.

Grandpas are all about chance and circumstance.

I'm your Grandpa because you say I am.

Children  make the grandpa legitimate.

No more than that.

I'm yours and I'm on probation.

Look at that mountain. What do you think?

Humility and compassion.

Knowing you're human, too.

Compassion. What do you feel?

Recognize distress when you see it.

Being kind is another way of being strong.

A course in miracles. Carrying a book

in my pack. This isn't a test.

It's  crossing into what's real.

They wear packs too.

I don't care if they know the poem..

Can you spot what's fake?

What's in your packs--

I have a stake in that one.

Milagros. Miracles.

The elephant balancing on the teacup.

What are his chances?

Imagine babies born in the margins.

Thinking the unthinkable.

High Camp Lodge at 6000 feet.

Peanut butter sandwiches. Satsumi oranges.

As many as they want. Drinking water

Todos de los marginados

nacen en casas de cartón.

At the end of their boyhood.

Bringing the mountain down to the size of the elephant.

Turning the teacup upside down.

           

How to help them understand.

Light in dark places. Solstice

Everybody on the mountain thinks it’s Thursday—

four days until Christmas. They’re counting days too.

Keep them on the mountain

until day light’s gone.

Take them into the Patrol shack.

Can these boys help you sweep the mountain?

Put the mountain to sleep.

Handing the camera to the boys.

Asking them the name of their movie.

Making them come up with seven words

for the title. Hearing their ski boots

on the metal stairs of the ski shack.

Hearing the last words, We’re going to Paradise,

come from the ski patrolman.

Jim Bodeen

21 December--26 December 2017