China Garden
The restless lad with flowing hair
in memory was lost
no longer am I unaware
that famine follows frost
For the chill that killed the first time
will wither twice as long
my hunger is a lifetime
for a love that grew too strong
So I will plant a garden
of fantasy and fruit
whose tender seeds will harden
when my love has taken root
Where I will walk on water
‘coz maybe there I’ll find
the trail that Heaven’s daughter
is leaving me behind
Then run down raging rivers
To stalk the savage swell
for what might fate deliver
to one who from grace fell
I’ll bend to beg or borrow
that needs don’t go unfilled
I will pay them back tomorrow
with the castles that I build
If need be battle dragons
till their evil flames subside
in a ring of covered wagons
I will stem the burning tide
No, I am not a fighter
but I’ll conquer that which keeps
our load from growing lighter
our children from their sleep
In earnest tend my garden
with wild but steady hand
for destiny will pardon
my raping of the land
No, I am not a farmer
whose angry rooster crows
to pierce the sleeping armor
while hesitation grows
But I will pick and shovel
after all my muscles hurt
through molten sand and gravel
till I like the taste of dirt
No, I am not a miner
still I must insist it’s true
I would dig my way to China
for another chance with you
Since all my love can’t alter
the windings of a stream
I will watch my garden falter
as the hero in a dream…
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I figure I’ll start about 30 miles or so due north of Stovepipe Wells, in Death Valley. That way, the natural topography might give me a head start of sorts, and the hellish climate should better prepare me for what lies down below. Slanting down easterly, 43-degrees from magnetic north, at a 42-degree incline from the surface, I should emerge in the northwest Chinese territory of Sinkiang, near the Turfan Depression. This serves a twofold target purpose: like Death Valley, it is below sea level (that should shorten the journey); unlike Death Valley, it lies far from the sea (that way, I won’t drown when I come up for air).
With the wind at my back, I figure it’ll take 20-23 years or so, give or take a brainstorm or two. At any rate, whenever I do get there, I won’t be considered a social outcast (a reverse ‘Grasshopper,’ so to speak). All those days of darkness are pretty much gonna put a permanent squint in my eyes. I’ll be a little off color, but I can take a joke. Just think what our brothers from the other side are gonna do, though, when they see yours truly draggin’ his dead ass out of a dark hole. Well, either Mother Earth is gonna start looking a whole lot like Swiss cheese, or the longest solid yellow line on the planet is gonna be making its way right up out of the desert floor. The more the merrier, I always say. At least I won’t be lonely anymore.
Randy's Rhymes 