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🪶
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🪶
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🪶
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🪶
Calm, The Reader reads in the dimming light
from volumes whose titles I can never quite see
Yet I sit below and occupy my scarred bench
watch and live through word and image
reflected from his eyes
A disciple, I exist vicariously
He reads the ponderings of sages
and he reads volumes of rant apolitical views
He reads poetry, philosophy, stories of now and then
cultures of the ancients, war and peace, religion too
He reads of adventure, nature, stars, the galaxies
He reads history, cookery, jubilation and yearning
confessions of fools and tutorials by thieves
When the night’s lamps illumine
I see his gaze pause to almost lift
but the pages’ grip is strong and he remains—-
Reason and light yawn to fade
We are two blessed or two doomed
The Reader and I
levitating or stumbling
between suspense and discovery
hunger and satisfaction
Until volumes of plenty
cease dropping from a mischief sky
or blindness grows in our minds and our eyes
we’ll be bound between cover and pages
the foolish and the wise🪶
Feelings: none is wrong
Some of these grow wings to fly
I stood a moment at the edge where
Your wounds may have bled awhile
And clouds glanced this way then passed on
Your monkey mind silenced by December’s cold
So hope slipped through
I felt it too
Peace from the inside🪶
rainy days
arbutus trunk reflections
forest choirs
we were seeking sun light
contrast to an ice cream sensation
distractions are everywhere though
and bold as we supposed we were
both succumbed:
she to two red squirrels frolicking
I to one small canvas of ethereal blues
western cedar canopy our venue
standing room only—-
Canada Geese have season’s tickets
she says « you can’t take it »
and I confess I did think I might
then we stand silent watching squirrel play
It’s sunny across the way but
we never make it
ice cream cool and the moment both pass
Our stroll resumes
scratch skip and a half blink
Art can stir
changes leave a kind of glow
light alters you from inside🪶
so wonder at the turn
what was yesterday
led into a labyrinth
grey and stained
decide your next move
driver be not passive
passenger I know
it can be easy to forget
let go take the ride
as it comes
closing eyes beckoning
disaster but who among
us draws ecstasy by slivers
defines power by surrender
broken fingers
crippling shards embed
scar your knees
still you breathe
and you climb
you gasp for life
out of bed
for wonder opens again
like possibility shivers
before sun warms
dawn of this new day🪶
Pencil Notes 