These Are My JOTtings, Part #2

The Quest for Home in Verse: Chapter #1, Quest's Perspective

The sweetest birth and the sweetest song both start the life of Quest,
he walked through the door to one great wrong, now all of Life's a test.

The silent crickets and the flying birds alarmed him when he stood
outside his homey cave with the green and brown of the faithful wood,
alerting him, that something new was not entirely good.

The boulder slamming near him made his face "explode" en masse.
His once-safe home became a rock-strewn tragedy, alas.
In turning toward the shaking, he fell away from the crevasse
to tumble headlong upon the wounding rocks, past shrieking birds,
which spoke their volumes without ever utt'ring human words.
The lumpy, bearish flesh now slumbered past what once was heard.

"I wonder where I've been and what I've done and how I'll eat.
"I wonder who I am and where is Dad and how'll we meet.
"I wonder where I'll spend the night and find some straw for heat."

Quest fell asleep a pile of wounded bear and dusty fur.
He slept for days and woke in muddy rain with life unsure.
These earthen "gloves" cast Quest about in ways that seemed a blur.
This bear felt like a lump of clay pressed down by mud-caked hands
against hard trees and pointy rocks, through soupy, leafy plans.
He screamed for help o'er monstrous winds, unsure he still stood on land.

Quest stopped a-slosh in a marshy nest, a sodden suit of earthy weight
in gratitude of what he had, amid sorrows known of late.
"I thank you, God, for helping me land in a soft and gentle place.
"Please, show me how to live each day in steps of growing grace."

If I survive, I need good thoughts about the good to come.
I'm where I am and where I'll be by what I do, the sum.
I feel like crying, (yes, I do,) but now I must survive.
If now I live through dangers great, I'll find my folks and thrive.

by Jay O'Toole
on May 21st, 2019