We were in the woods
Even before the sunrise
I remember repeatedly
Trying to wipe the sleep from my eyes

It was my first hunt
Along with my Dad
And I knew in my heart
It would be the best day I ever had

I must admit
Not much sleep was had
As I layed in bed looking forward
To this morning and hunting with Dad

For months on end
Dad had tried me to prepare
And now it was hard to believe
I was acutally with him out there

Dad heard the movement first
And I followed his gaze
As the shape of the Buck
Appeared out of that morning's haze

He had warned me of buck fever
And I felt it for sure
Trembling from head to toe
As if I had a disease with no cure

But slowly and gently my Dad
On my shoulder put his hand
I will never forget that morning
Up in that tree stand

That calmed me enough
And I lined up for the shot
Doubts running through my mind
Could I do it or not?

As I pulled the trigger
I could swear it was two shots that I heard
And looking at Dad he just smiled
And for a moment didn't say a word

Then finally he said
"You got him son!"
And the adrenaline in me doubled
When I saw what I thought I had done.

Looking back I now know
It was Dad that hit that deer
Though he never admitted it
Even after many a year

I'll always remember it
Though Dad now is gone
That very first hunt
That he took me on.

There was a strong wind blowing
That wet and cold Fall day
The first day of Deer season
And to my stand I was on the way

The sun had only just began
To slowly rise
But the path was so familiar
I could walk it with closed eyes

Finally reaching my spot
I climb into my stand
Ready to wait patiently
With bow in my hand

It was so peaceful
Away from the world's strife
As the time passed
And the woods came to life

The chirps of the squirrels
The birds singing their song
Took my mind off the world
And the many things so wrong

Before I knew it
Several hours had gone by
With not a single deer
Crossing the path of my eye

Not getting a deer...
Did I have nothing to show?
For those hours in the woods
When I awoke so early to go?

That is not the case
Because I had gotten the true goods...
The peace and contentment
Only to be found in the woods.

Like an eagle meant to soar
But locked in a cage
So am I and many like me
Trying to live in this modern age

The world is so fast
And complex it would seem
The simplicity of the past
Is to many of us a dream

I don't mean the past
As in 50 years or so
But I mean farther back
A few hundred years ago

And even back then
In a village we would not be content
But would be like those
That out in the wild, their life spent

They lived in the woods
Not just to survive
But it was in that environment
They truly came to thrive

Going in to town seldomly
Only to buy or trade
Then right back to the wild
Civilization to evade

That time is long gone
But that same spirit in many of us is not
And men feeling like caged eagles
Is what we've now got.

Living in a shell
Staying on the shelf
Only showing bits and pieces
Of what makes your true self

Almost like a cage
Free only through your written word
Very few understanding
Most thinking you absurd

And that my friends is life
For many that you see
But at least my friend we have
The words written by you and me.

Spoke to a near and dear friend today who relayed a story to me, asked me to write something about it, then requested I shared it. Thanks to all of you who do what you must.

I was feeling most light
To start this day
But now I confess
That has gone away


I will reveal things
Some consider dark
And be very frank
Though you may find it stark

I have hunted and killed
The most elusive of prey
Hoping to never re-visit
That final day

And though I bury the memory
It seems to rise from the dead
Once again though as yesterday
Living in my head

The last look on his face
The last living soul to see
The confusion and surrender
His life showed unto me

Not like I had a choice
It was his life or mine
Only one of us would ever see
Once again the sunshine

One of us or another
Would ever again know life
That's how it is
At the point of a knife

One life is ended
Another goes on
Only one of us would see
Another dawn

You call it PTSD
I call it life
Living to tell the story
At the tip of the knife.

I spend the days of the week
Toiling for the man
Working with aluminum and steel
Making a living the best that I can

By the time the weekend rolls around
I've had enough of the concrete and steel
And it's time to get outside
Where at peace I feel

Then I can't help but wonder
How things must have been
For the pioneers of this nation
Those heroic women and men

With just a few sundries
As well as rifle, axe, and knife
They lived off the land
A challenging but satisfying life

Trapping by the river
Hunting in the woods
Gathering with other woodsmen
To buy and trade goods

No cell phone towers
No electrical lines everywhere
Crystal clear waters
And clean fresh air

Then from my reveries
I am jarred back awake
By the sound of man's traffic
And the unnatural noise it does make

Now we are more civilized
Living in city and town
Too civilized to hunt and trap
But adept at gunning one another down

Too civilized to live free
So we let gov't grow
Too civilized for independence
So we let liberty go

Give me a time machine
And I will go back to the past
For I care not for this civilized world
And the very dark shadow it does cast

Checking the trap lines
Down by the river
The cool Fall air
Sending a slight shiver

There was no doubt about it
Winter was on the way
But he loved the mountain man life
And wouldn't have it anyother way

Living in town
Was out of the question
And brought a grimace to his face
At just the suggestion

An 18th century man
In today's modern time
That made no sense to him
No reason nor rhyme

But to each their own
He lived and let live
Slow to anger
And quick to forgive

With his simple life
He was so content
As just living in nature
His life was spent

The mountain man life
In a little cabin in the woods
For that my friends
I would give up all this world's goods.