Friends

Part I

Please, dear finder, share these notes,
With this you must not fail,
They tell of friends and living long,
They tell a holy tale. 

The quiet of this cabin space
You've found by crooked path
Is our eternal camping place
In a forest hidden swath.   

We built the walls with hand-hewn logs,
The floor is made of pine,
The rafters cut from forest trees.
The beds all hand designed.

We placed this cabin carefully,
By lake no ranger sees.
The public land we built upon
Is yours and mine and free.

Before you tell another soul
Where you found this note,
Be sure you need not come yourself,
With ones you love the most.  

Three friends I had, and so did they,
Our party four in all,
Three hundred years our ages add
Before the trumpet called.

Chris suffered first and found himself
For years within a cell.
They called it lovely Sunset Hill;
But it was Sunset Hell.

We snuck him out quite late at night,
The orderly was sleeping. 
We oiled the wheels of bed and chair
And ended all their squeaking. 

Snoring, groaning, everywhere,
While we our friend were stealing.
The top atop the pickup truck
Was perfectly concealing.
 
It was exciting pulling off
This small town heist at night,
We laughed about the morning news
And Chris was grinning bright.

Dave was the doctor in our group
And he knew just what to do.
The orderly stayed fast asleep
We paid them what was due.

Up o'er the pass we traveled on
Heavy snows were yet to come.
We made it to our hidden road
Exactly half past one.

There Bobby met us with the van
The last loads in to nest,
To see us through the winter time
With food and light and rest.

This plan of ours was masterful,
We left out no detail,
We hid the cars in deep ravine
And covered up our trail.

Exhausted now we found our spot
Deep in the forest glen,
We greeted daybreak all alone.
We moved ourselves all in.

Part II

We brought no watch nor calendar
No way to measure time.
We rose and ate quite naturally,
With rhythms most sublime.

We talked and told of younger days
When we were strong and brave.
We thought to mount a mountain's peak
Made her our comely slave.

We thought we conquered when we climbed,
We thought we were so wild,
But now the truth was ebbing in:
We were the mountain's child. 

We got profound as days passed by
Within our cabin fair,
And argued too about the God
Who gave us life to share.

'Twas plain to see by one and all
That what we suffered now,
Was helping each one go in peace
To heed reunion's call.

We had our order figured out
If fate would only heed.
The doctor should be last to go,
But he was first to leave.

Doc Dave's poor cancer had no cure
He came with life within
Eating at his organs so
They killed themselves with him.

But what a man for us to love
Who nursed a host of souls
All wanting to extend their lives
Regardless of the tolls.

But he would counsel like a saint
When time was coming near
And make the faint-heart look ahead
To what he called "The Years."

"The Years," he'd say, "they do not end,
They only lengthen more.
"It's birth," he'd say, "Delivery!
The light and open door."

The sparkle in his eye was bright
Just like that open door,
And who could doubt the doctor's voice
Who nursed the rich and poor.

"He had authority," they said,
"He was a learned man."
And on his day of dying
He gave each of us his hand.

To Chris he said, "You might be last
To leave this cabin wake.
And if it's so, it matters not,
Remember your namesake.

“You sang his song with joy and tear,
He knows you by your name,
And when he comes he comes for you
Your last and highest aim."

Now Chris who was the eldest here
Spoke with words so choice
He set old Doc to weeping
Despite his quivering voice.

"You too be strong, dear Doc," said Chris,
"You need not be afraid.
I'll join you soon upon the lake
Awaiting God's parade.

“And when in trumpet leading march
The chorus sings for us
We'll rise above our water grave
And board the omnibus.

“We'll ride the sky the moon the star,
We'll pass the milky way,
And when arriving at God's gate
Twill be the finest day."

Now Bobby is a no-deal man,
He claims he can't believe
That there is more than this brief place,
All else is but a dream.

So it was hard for him to take
Doc's hand into his own.
He had few words to speak aloud
He looked so full of gloom.

Doc said it clear for all to hear,
"The doctrines matter not.
Faith nor doubt nor easy talk
Restrains this chariot."

And Bob responded painfully,
“You teach me how to die,
But I've got one more settlement
Before my dying sigh.

“I was so wronged so long ago
I lost my dearest one,
You ask me to forgive the God
Who let it all be done.”

Poor Bob," said Chris, to Doc aloud,
"He thinks he strives with men,
But God has every one intact
All cared for without end.

“Their daily smile he sees always
Their daily song his joy."
To Bob, Chris said, "Your misery
Makes love some sort of toy.

Your love was but a loan from God
Who graced you with his gifts,
For none of us another own---
Even ourselves are his."

Now Doc was nearing time to go
Our hands formed one small chain
But there was nothing we could do
Already he passed pain.

I stroked his head and whispered low,
"You healed and counseled true,
Now go to God, your dearest friend,
Woo him who first wooed you."

He squeezed my hand and then let go,
He had made the pass
And looking back like far away
He clearly shouted, "Yes!"

Part III

In time we wrapped his body up
With linen from his bed.
We took him out and fastened him
Upon the icy sled.

We pulled him to the frozen lake
Then to the weighted shed,
Which had four shelves for laying out
The bodies that were dead.

How quietly the work was done,
Beneath the still blue sky.
All heaven watched our labor dear
For David's place to lie.

We lashed him to the frame and shelf
So when the spring thaw came,
His body would be sunk with shed
Deep in the crystal grave. 

Bob prayed aloud for David's soul,
Chris asked that he be next,
I thanked Creator God once more
For friends around me yet.

We slid Chris back into the house
Same way we had him leave.
He knew the plans we all had made
Were now to be achieved.

"I told them at that nursing home,
They'd never see me dead.
I told them I had friends who cared
And we'd go camping yet.

“I told them you were coming soon
They laughed about it bad.
I told them I was ‘out of there’
And they just thought me mad."

We laughed and played and drank a toast
To David's passing on:
"He left us all the work to do
And slid to loving arms."

"What kind of Doc would do that to
A cripple in a bed?"
"What kind of Doc would check out first
And go to God instead?”

For we had yet so many words
As living folks all do,
But time was but a pretense now
And words were better few.

Chris knew his day was surely close,
Bob’s’s coughing wouldn’t stem.
I new my heart was pumping hard
We were three worn out men. 

But days passed into weeks and more,
And one day Christmas came.
We cut a tree and gave out gifts
And then we played a game.

Chris challenged Bob to run a race
Against him in his chair.
He'd roll one lap if Bob ran two
And that would make it fair.

When all was set I shot the gun
A single shouting "bang!"
And round they went like children gay
I said, “You’ve tied again.  “

Bob wheezed for hours and Chris went pale
But they were glad indeed
No race was finer on the track---
Olympians take heed!

Then came the time for sentiment
And we had poems and song.
We brought out all the memories
We let the longings long.

And Bob took pictures,
God knows why, of all about the room,
And stored the rolled up film away
As proof we were not fools.

PART IV

The deepening cold made firewood
Our daily dismal chore
Despite the stack outside our door
Inside we needed more.

Each time the door was opened wide
To bring the arm load in,
The breeze would chill the rafters
And bring quick shivering.

We grew more quiet with each day,
Like older couples do,
Until one day on porch there stood
A black bear wanting food.

In instant fear I quick withdrew
Into the cabin space.
While Chris and Bob in great alarm
Moved from their resting place.

"What will we do?" we asked aloud,
As bruin paced back and forth,
"And what has wakened him from sleep
Deep in the winter course?"

The fear we felt amazed us all,
How could he threaten us?
We calmly waited for our day
But bears were dangerous!

Perhaps we had not made the peace
We thought we managed well.
Perhaps we weren't like dishrags limp
Ready to say farewell. 

We nicknamed bear "Beelzebub,"
He had a tempter's grin
And guarded he our firewood
As coldness settled in.

The plan was simple as could be,
Ignored he'd go away,
But gathering storm and frigid air
Made dangerous our delay.

At first we burned our home made beds,
Then the back room floor.
Two days hence Beelzebub knocked
On our entrance door.

He called with groans and moans and sighs
Chris thought of Sunset Hill.
He called with roar like rushing wind
And said he meant no ill.

We thought about the novelty
Of having a petting bear.
Perhaps Beelzebub would then
Return to his own lair.

Despite the tempter's tempting thoughts
We knew it couldn't be,
But then Chris volunteered himself,
"Why not let him have me?"

"Why not?" we said, in scornful style,
"You'd be a sorry meal.
Bears like meat that’s got some fat,
You’re bony and genteel.”

"I'd just as soon feed bear as trout,
I think it suits me well.
Just roll me on the porch and watch,
When I give my rebel yell.”

We wheeled him to the entrance door,
As though to do his will,
And asked him if he had last words
For friends at Sunset Hill.

Bob grabbed a pan and metal spoon
I opened wide the door
We banged the drum into the face
To see if bear would roar.

He took one step and so did we,
As though to make a fight,
Chris screamed a bone-chilled rebel yell,
Beelzebub took flight!

We gathered up quick firewood,
Armloads full we bore.
And thanked Chris for his offering,
No friend could ask for more.

"It was the yell of hell,” Chris said,
As though he saw the past,
But we said, "No, it was your face,
That made the bear aghast.

That night Chris died within his sleep
He died with this goodbye,
"I beat Beelzebub," he said,
“I looked him in the eye.”

"No fear I had when he was near.
I smelled his winter breath.
I stared him down like Daniel did.
I had no fear of death."

PART V

Now we shelved Chris like we did Doc,
(I know it sounds so rude)
And now our little shed looked sweet
Even though it was so crude.  

I saw Bob scribble on the door,
But then he closed it tight.
Two shelves were left for him and me
And that would be just right.

Again days turned to weeks or more
And they have been so good,
We both have lived much longer than
The doctors said we could.

Now Bob spoke softly about his life,
And I too shared my days
And then he said, "I give to God
My everlasting praise.

"I am so sorry I held back
The gifts he gave to me.
I selfishly supposed them mine,
But they belonged to he.

"Now I see it's heaven's work
And not my feeble mode.
Alone God makes a life a joy,
The earth is his abode.

"I give him whom he gave to me,
And not reluctantly;
I give him back all whom he gave,
I give them joyfully."

Now this I must report for Bob
So you may understand.
He had so few of earthly things,
But what a wealthy man!

He had two kids, a wife, three friends,
They were his everything.
And he outlived them all but one,
And now God's song could sing.

His strength to cough it up was gone,
The dying finally won.
Alone I was in the quiet wood
To do what needed done. 

I rigged the sled a final time
And slipped out to the shed.
Upon the bottom shelf he fit,
It made a fitting bed.

I read the scribbled message
On the door he wrote to tease:
"Last one in, close the door,
And turn the lights on please."

PART VI

Now solitude is precious
If it's chosen for one's life,
But when it comes through partings
It's mostly filled with strife.

At first self-doubt and awful thoughts
Filled every day with dread,
I tossed and turned and slept real light
Upon my lonely bed.

My solitary footprints
Were blown away by wind.
No trace there was I am,
Or shall be, or ever once had been.

I write these words to half-explain
The things that happened here.
Think twice before you love a friend,
The price is very dear.

But now blue skies and warming wind
Remind the soul of  spring,
The ice upon the lake is thin
New birds arrive and sing.

The pain within my chest is hard,
It is a silly thing,
To be connected to a heart
That cannot make a spring.

I'm going out to see the sun,
The winter's nearly done.
I'm going out to see my shelf,
I'm going to try to run.

The message scribbled on the door
Was not all said in jest.
There are four snaps inside the shed
That hold the roof on fast.

When they're released a heavy wind
Will lift the roof away
And stars and snow and sunshine too
Will make the tomb all gay.

I'm going out to stretch one time
Upon my final bed.
I'm going out my prayers to pray
To One who isn't dead.

I'm going out to give sweet thanks
And wonder about tomorrow.
I'm going out to see the life
That's coming without sorrow.

So let me close and make my way
Out toward that setting sun.
If I'm not back before the dawn
You know new life has come.