Marking Time
Guy Koehler, Rancher at Rivendell Ranch
"Thock, thock", as just this moment the sun drives across the trees behind the barn, glancing out across the inner pasture where the garden should be. Two swallows dance, dipping and diving in the chase for a breakfast that works just as hard to escape.
"Thock, thock", while the wind rises, and grey clouds burn off into the blue of summer skies. The rooster doesn't seem concerned that the sun may not come out all the way, that the clouds may not burn off at all.
Amidst these gentle reminders of my Grandmother's farm, are scattered the remains of my life: empty Pepsi cans, some standing, some lying on their sides, all empty; a Toll House bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips, one corner ripped out, and the sweetness gone, eaten one morsel at a time to fuel midnight parodies and explorations; a Coors Light can camouflaged among the sodas; two white lettered plastic sleeves that once contained frozen flavored ice; empty wine bottles the silent sentinels of it all, and the Porto Rocha 10 Year Old Port holding out the promise of tonight's adventure.
"Thock, thock", amid ruin: dishes piled high in the sink, scummed from days of neglect; the fat of cooked flesh congealed on the counter, table, stove top, and lying in solid pools in the bottom of pans on the back burners; counters cluttered with the debris of several weeks' meals; white plastic grocery bags hang off the cupboard handles from the weight of the discarded egg shells in them; three boxes sitting on the floor, in the bottom of each clumped sawdust from chicks now outside; eggs that turned out to be too old or not fertile, rotting in their shells in the styrofoam incubator on the floor by the window under the edge of the table.
"Thock, thock", and I see my Grandmother's farm, to her neatness and the warmth of the promise that sound always held for me when I was small. Here today in this place, I huddle among my disappointments, wallow in my despair, and look out the window at the promise of something better.
"Thock, thock", the clock on the wall; still there, still ticking, still marking the moments of my life, still reminding me of other days when I dreamed of a bright future. These days of my life remind me of what could have been: loves lost, laughter shared, tears shed, voices heard.
"Thock, thock", through my days, cutting the indivisible thread of my soul into moments that can be measured: the innocent dreams of youth, the disappointments of early manhood, the joys of being in love, the agony of the day that love left, the despair of never loving again, the renewal of finding the Green that once was and now is my best friend, and the despair of facing the truth that I may need to leave this place.
"Thock, thock", the reminder that the Green is and always has been inside me, all around me; that no matter where I go or what I do, the Green is the voice between the notes, the silence between the drum beats, the stillness in the morning sun's light, the joy of a newborn lamb frolicking at its mother's side. It is so easy to strike out at those who inadvertently and sometimes deliberately try to harm me. There is so much old anger and fear to use as my weapon of choice.
"Thock, thock", will I hope, be my reminder that a gentle heart need not pick up that weapon, that perhaps there is another way to turn aside anger, fear, betrayal, danger.
Perhaps there is hope after all that I can do more than Marking Time.
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
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Ezekiel Krahlin
<<
"Thock, thock", the mechanical clock, marking the passage of moments; rising and falling so gently that it's almost impossible to hear the rhythm in it.
>>
Guy, it is difficult to read this piece, knowing it is a true reflection of your present, difficult circumstances. Yet you have such a great sense of rising above present misfortunes, you can't help but inspire, in spite of it all.
For those who con't grasp what's going on with Guy:
Guy Koehler is my newest gay e-friend, who has shared with me some personal insights. One of them being: he may have to give up the dream of a farm in Wash. state's Olympic rain forest. Part of this dream is to provide an inexpensive rural retreat for faeries and queers, that is both wholesome and safe from homophobia.
The finances are too demanding, despite all his hard work in maintaining his farm and caring for the animals. A difficult economy is the largest contributor to this demise...for the time needed for his venture to finally take off is much shorter than in a more viable and less stressful economy.
Perhaps it's not too late, if some on this list who seek a vacation in the country, would consider Rivendell Ranch for a getaway. This is not an advertisement, as Guy never requested me to say this. All I suggested in a past message, was to join gaynet, where he could reach more people...who'll appreciate his daily journals of life on a faery farm.
His website is most delightful, even if you don't seek a vacation:
http://www.rivendell-ranch.com/
but it is where you also need to go, to find out about the campsite fees, location, contact, etc.
I think investing in Guy's venture is a DIRECT contribution to supporting a unique gay business venture...that is a truly POSITIVE asset. Maybe someone out there is looking for just the opportunity for which Mr. Koehler has so lovingly and painstakingly paved the way.
I believe that Guy would welcome any and all questions about his farm venture...either on this list, or in private.
My prayers are with you, Guy! Miracles do happen, even to pagans!
---
"Sodomy may be perfectly legal, but damn
it, it still hurts!" -Jehovah's Queer Witness
http://www.gay-bible.org/first_gig.htm
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This is message #5527.