This Work I've Done

If pride comes before a fall,
Where should I fall now
But harder on the springboard
Of will and imagination...

I'm proud of the work I've done
Rummaging under a midday sun;
I heaved and sweated these tree stumps
Down from a forestry run,
Abandoned on the weekend when workers
      are home with wives and children,
      Partners and friends, drinks and stories to share;
Leaving me to scrummage and find
      log offcuts and log ends,
Not too heavy, not too light,
To lift, carry, drop, roll and shoulder
      - repeat and rest;
Lift, carry, drop, roll, and shoulder
      - catch my breath;
Until here is reached, an extra seat
      placed
      - an extra seat for you
         should you choose,
         to come down exploring
         this world you were born into.

Though I did that for you,
These muscles I built,
This campfire I light,
This morning sky I look upon with delight;
All these I did for myself
      to stay alive,
      to ward off the shadow of death
      that once plagued every step,
And to realise this bold truth
      that had lain dormant inside.

I desired not the strength
      to fight other men,
Nor did I build this muscle
      to show off through an attractive lens;
I only desired strength to fight
      the enemy inside,
The one who always tempts with the allure of death:
        —  Surely you have been alone for far too long now,
                 Mr Stubbs
             Why, a drowning would suit you so well now,
                 Mr Stubbs
             Go swimming with mermaids for the rest of your days,
             Be one with the ocean and all the sea life
                 you oh so love!

If pride comes before a fall,
Where should I fall then
But harder on the springboard
Of will and imagination.

I'm proud of the work I've done
      from the tub-fest I was;
Round face, bloated thighs,
Shovelling food to sleep tiredness off.
I hired no trainer to shape these arms
I had no friends cheering me on
I sought no woman I wished to impress
No family came to pat me on the back.

I walked all those paths,
I climbed all those hills,
And as many times as I fell,
I made something new.

All these rocks I lifted and moved,
Dug a hole unearthing a fire pit,
Bricked a base for containment
Leaving rain for other days.

I chopped all these branches
      and carried them to my campsite,
Axed them into firewood
      leaving chips littering the ground.

All this I did for myself,

And if pride comes before a fall,
      where should I fall then?
Harder on the springboard, I say
      of will and imagination,
      freedom and satiation,

For a keepsake of peace and space.

• 25th November, 2023