Poem: Treasures Along The Way

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Born in a sterile hospital room
Died at sea, a centennial groom
Lost a third from wannabe messiahs
Now I chase storms and floods
Hackers and wildland fires

Born to run, cry, teach and sing
Born to bring joy and pain to those
In my social ring
Born to sound alarms and kick up a fuss
Born to mentor the next generation
The future heroes among us

On many an asphalt path
And many a busy freeway
I have wandered the bayous
And downtown street maze

Through wasted years and fruitful moments
Through tearful fears and adventure roamings

Through treasured sites and horrific scenes
Through bloody fights and love-making screens

With a sense of accomplishment
And a tinge of regret
With an urge to admonishment
And an explorer's net

With a leap and a shout
And a kick to a foot-dragger's ass
With a passion pure and devout
And access to a grower's legal stash

Still travelling this long-stretched dirt trail
Until a dead end comes or a casket sealed with fresh nails
Still travelling with hope and eager expectations
The roads of the treasure map
Reserved for both the trembling and audacious

~ Gunnar Våken

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