Uncharted Courses

Sixty thousand pounds One hundred sixty horses Snorting like leviathan On uncharted courses Eleven feet of width Thirty-two of reach Tank-like tracks that crush the rock With a metallic screech Carving up the hillside With the greatest ease Playing toss with boulders Plucking up huge trees A tree that falls is heard Some even make a sigh A sound that makes me wince I will not tell a lie Progress can be brutal On nature, we intrude We like to make an entrance Loud and brash and rude I tell myself the openings Make room for trees to grow Or so I justify; I’m pretty good, you know Deftly flicking boulders Smoothing out the dirt Yard by yard he moves along Master craft at work It’s not for the timid Or the faint of heart Carving trails on mountainsides Truly is an art We’ve started every morning Briefly, with a prayer For Shawn and for his safety And for God’s presence there Hard to juxtapose Stewardship, dominion: The beauty there down in the vale, Diesel-powered pinions In time, the forest will forget And cover up our scars For now, I walk His wooded trail At night, beneath His stars.