He sat motionless, as questions made an indent on his brain.
The strain was telling
Every word laid down misspelled.
There was motion.
A strange calmness enveloped him
Situations such as these – few and far between.
Seeking sanctuary in the surrounds of his music
Comfort washes over him.
Sitting by his typewriter
Shadowed by a veil of thin emotion
He diligently typed
Words, per his heartbeat
Which brought a sudden calmness
A Haiku was born.
He was ageing
Yet wintering well
Happy in his mind
As he walked with words in the company of Salaska
Along imaginary cobbled streets.
(c) Chris Black. August 2018
~The Poet’s Poet~
Hear a spoken word version at
Salaska – Looking for the Way
“Since the origins of the indigenous peoples of the Americas music, dance, and ceremonies worshiping nature and mother earth have always been visible expressions of the deep spirituality shared by our people” An excerpt taken from a longer piece on the sleeve of their album/CD Looking for the Way.