This Land

dark dank rain on the truck windshield,
onward i go.
clouds descend with ever-rising rapidity,
i laugh, and think of the times when these skyies were sunny.
west coast wet coast.
nothing between me and the empty highway except how many tonnes of metal they put in this truck,
cruising along between the evergreen gorges, the sparkling streams and the ferocious waterfalls.
up ahead, just another in turn in the road,
onward i go.
mist sits in the trees, looking down thoughtfully as i admire the its wispy mustache whinging its way between the boughs.
"just guy, on the lost highway"
cold night will set in before and after i have reached my final destination.
city born, country bred.
i dog the relentless reaches of the province,
and pound the pulverized pavement that winds its way wonderously throughout.
soon
i will load my behemoth vehicle of steel, iron and whatever else they are putting in these damn automobiles nowadays,
onto the wrought platform of a ferry
and coast merrily down the coast, past the reserves and resources
the dark evergreens everywhere.
so long i have longed for this land,
the mountains that open up their arms to pick me up and carry me into their hearts,
the currents in the ocean that twirl and wave their hands, beckoning,
the world where everything began for me.
the place where i have grown up.
there is no other place like it it the world.
though my ancestors come from lands to the east, the Metis in Manitoba and Saskatchewan and others farther still,
forever i will be here in this land.
this is where i come from.
i have been taught the ways of this land,
when i set foot in it i am able to understand.