Poems by David Leo Krisjanson-Gural

Trail Unwandered
every day at edge of the wood
i turn and take that same trail
down past the large pines
through thicket and sedge
where very little light gets through
i wonder about that other trail
the one that winds along river
light dancing on water washed
stones giving back tumble
of messages conjured by feet
i try not to judge myself
know what keeps me turning
down this same trail i’m learning
what’s inside is bigger
more mysterious and older
than i imagined i’m noticing
each stick and stone and field
and bone the brick
and curse trying not
to make me think twice
at once i’m small and just there
enough just tall enough
to see all the past
a spread-before-me
landscape hoping to be released
hoping that one day
when song of wind
word-wafting scent of berry
in bloom sets me a notion
to take that trail unwandered
i will obey
Song of Ocean
every day you find
in me stones i didn’t
know i had collected
reached down felt
put away
you place them
before me stacked
like a totem
a place to mark
the trail
i find them hard
but you like them
you tell me
about their colors
and shapes
and how every
new thing you
learn fills the beach
you come to
when you come to
find me
and if a beach
is what i can be
for you if i can
mark a trail for you
then yes i can be filled
by stones
i can make myself
whole by knowing
their edges the roundness
and flint that makes
the trail i wandered
known
makes the edge of our
ocean sing
even if the cold
and flint and solace
that’s made the stone
never tells its story
never knows more
than the way home
Opportunity
gather a skein of yarn
what we told ourselves
notice the colors
how the browns
greys and whites
make beauty
catch the light
weave them
try to make
comfort and warmth
tell yourself
every movement
toward the whole
creates a warp
an opportunity
each question you
contemplate
creates a weft
and so we gather
together what
least we expect
we pick up
a cup left
behind
say hello
to someone
we’ve never met
About the Author – David Leo Kristjanson-Gural

David Leo Kristjanson-Gural is a father, teacher, scholar, writer, poet and novice woodworker whose work is directed to helping others understand ways in which our social systems cause harm and to heal from that harm by creating new ways to live, work and support each other. He shares a home with his family in the Susquehanna Valley where he teaches economic alternatives and, until recently, he co-directed Wild Goose Farm, a sustainability education center with intergenerational programs to inspire people to transition to regenerative ways of living and growing.
Keep Reading…
- Birthplace
It was the hayloft’s aerial devilry— stench of rot in the heat, barn boards strewn with excrement, swallow and bat, littered with too many winged corpses for a child to revive— that compelled her - Whispers
There are whispers. They call like echoes in empty space, So that we may find a semblance of shapes amongst the darkness. Only here, on the precipice of passing, are we forced with the honest truth. Like rivers, we ebb and coil and stretch far beyond the measure of our bodies. - Motherhood in the Plague Year
Sometime between the murder of George Floyd and the confirmation of Amy Coney Barrett, I started to think about killing myself.
Meanwhile, at Dreamers…
Fireside Writing Retreat

It’s simple; a set of prompts, a loose structure, and time set aside to move through it at your own pace. You can follow it closely or not at all. There’s no expectation to produce anything finished.
Dreamers Writing Farm

Dreamers Writing Farm is the physical home of the Dreamers community, a quiet, creative space on the Bruce Peninsula in Ontario. Writers, artists, and travellers stay here throughout the year in simple, literary-themed cabins, tents, and studio suites.