star magnolia succumbs
ancient limbs grown weary
one winter’s weight takes her all the way down
mourning gazes from dirty windows
absence reels in repetition
barren’s such heavy baggage
imagination is comfort escape
so dig a hole for remembrance
plant a seedling
aid her fragile will reach to grow
one bright spring birdsong morning
a single dogwood blossom opens
four tender petals
a fragile peace
balance on the wind🪶
probably anyone can paint a fence
shall I list the steps to accomplish this feat?
I would rather you search on duck duck go
or seek an instructional youtuber’s generosity
isn’t there every solution to be found there?
my interest has more to do with the importance
of walking
not merely walking though movement has
its benefits
lubrication and other basics like using
what you have for what it is you have today
is not guaranteed to be found faithful or even
present in your tomorrow
no—-
walking walking at any pace fast or slow
in any direction toward no particular
destination
you may call it « wandering »
but walking at any pace, mais oui (I have lately
rekindled a penchant for acquiring some
competence in a language other than the
familiar anglais) but yes, walking with a gaze of
clear eyed curiosity
You can ponder any subject, troubling or not
or settle a difference of opinion
between yourself and your monkey mind while
concurrently looking around with interest
your own shoes don’t need more attention
leave them be, to function as foot covers
walk
look
pause
then walk some more
it might be you find you walk a long long way
you feel buoyant or grateful or just ready
Nevermind casting a line out for reasons
your heartbeat is the reason
and the shimmer in your eyes that have seen
what there is to be found along the way
You’ll be glad you saw the gift someone left
a bouquet of lavender on the path
a hand printed haiku at the base of a tree
or a smiling pink bird painted on a stone
propped on a dilapidated fence post
awaiting new paint🪶
Behind the green maze of instruction
a giant quiet thriving pushes through
Insistence, three syllables seek survival
How long? Who knows? Who is noticing now?
Abundance is scarce
Abundance, obscurity’s dance partner
Drum light for morning rainfall
Disturbance may stall unfolding desire
Red red hums the melody of promises
Red red, a soloist collapses—-
still needing someone🪶
I was a fool once
maybe there is more than that
Live in the present🪶
No silence like beauty in the alpine
Snowshoe edges slap in four four time
Below these banks, streams push boundaries
A pale sky promises more light tomorrow
This day is explored with slowed heartbeat
I surrender to forest tranquility
And you appear, Wisakedjak
Smoky gray ghost gliding on soft wings
To sing to me your whisper song
Lull me with your sweet corvid lullaby
Steal morning’s rations from my mitten grip🪶
Were you there, unblinking
to catch the sight
of the pink shoe taking flight
from a hurried woman’s mid step
last Wednesday?
No camera lens preserved it
though there may be others
who return to the smile maker memory
In the moment, scenes
arrange themselves
no director calling
no X cues on any floor
improbable improv unintended
You or I,
privileged serendipitous witness
accept the award with grace
its existence ours to keep, or
so we believe—-
While in the photo we captured
tacked with satisfaction
inside a frame only
a skeleton remains🪶
Peace to all who enter
Banner that above each hall
I roll my sister toward
a sunshine room
There are so few places here to roam
She talks more or less nonsense than
before she crossed the line
Was it by choice or was she pushed
like Thompson’s Pavanne
No one knows or speaks aloud
I must have been looking elsewhere
on that day
Caught the remainder change rolling my way
I miss my sister—
Where has she gone?
A rolling complication
Two wide eyed blues afraid of what is
What’s to come what may may not be
Cracked fragments rising falling memory
Drummers dance to rhythms of their
nameless mountain valley reverie
Unsigned solace
I hear voices of heart song offerings
open hands drawing grace in unity
We look with eyes of thoughts and dream
She asks me if I see the baby crying in the sky🪶
All the people
I know are peacemakers
I don’t know
so many people so
What do I know🪶
I might leave it as it is
for now
As this winter sunlight frames its
perfect invasion
Moss flourishes in crevices
burrowing thoughts
mischief lodgers
I might be careful when walking
step between the soft
mounds
with my black rain boots
soles fleshy with mud and decaying
Maple leaves
In progress works must steep
to ooze toward their finishing
When feverish lean back
and dream
Watch as daylight fades and
light no longer illuminates the smear
of unclean windows
Watch as the tall silent spruce
loom against the grey milk of twilight
silhouettes whispering
things just beyond your muffled
audio reach🪶
Standing near centre
Am I to float or to fly
Hiraeth versus breath🪶
Pencil Notes 