Practice

This is not the garden yet, but a beginning, seventeen years worth work submitted to wills and whims of climate. Mid-April and the ground only now in view, shawls of snow lying about like dirty underwear after a particularly long night. The mud, the mud, it’s all mud. Who knows what survives? One thing for…

Yevshan, a song goes on singing

now take the sage — yevshan — now breathe it in yevshan yevshan you call from it a story of your own people far away an eastern light, far grasslands yevshan yevshan yevshan your silver leaves bend shining slight arms embrace the wind your sharp breath breaks the bonds of winter roots endure and flourish…

Song of Praise (resung)

In Nass Valley, one shaft of sun lights two red and white toadstools in damp moss, luminous deeper in cathedral, wingéd ugly fungi, colours i wouldn’t admit there, i and all that i am, no less than the stinkhorn and oozing mud sing the brown and wrinkled, slick and loathsome, what i would not dare…

Shimmer

Who remembers, jingles with the buzz; if you hear 1981, do you see those small tables? jostled round by young sophisticates, and here, one northern bush kid, easy tan of metis (years before capital M and definitions that don’t matter in the shimmer of the music). This girl is 16, down in The City to visit her sister…

Spirit Mothering

  I was 23 when I met my spirit mother. I’d buried my father and my older brother, gone to university, gotten put on probation, answered an ad that seemed the answer to my prayer for something meaningful to do with that year, some path that mattered. The path led to Mexico, to a teaching…

Gone to Starlight

She is gone from this place, another great woman. We loved her, as one loves a whirlwind. Lifted now into the sky realms, her path remains in our hearts, leads on into wilderness. There is so much more to say, but for now, farewell and love to the incomparable Elke Blodgett

On This Holy Night

When they saw the star, they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy. – Matthew 2:10 Tonight, I am home in the quiet, Mom. This house is old-fashioned, with the kitchen at its heart, like a farm house. My living room walls are gold, like yours were. I keep a garden, Mom, and I bake bread. I…

Her Singers, Her Songs

I will sing for joy. – Psalms 92:4 What music brought joy to Mom?What were Mom’s favourite songs, and who were her favourite singers? A daughter can’t always know that, as every one of us has songs with meanings we hold only in our own heart. As for the songs and singers I do recall,…

Ten Things

You have filled my heart with greater joy. – Psalms 4:7 This simple statement has squirrelled round in my head all day, while I wondered what to write. Finally, I saw a photo of David Letterman, now old and bearded, like some unexpected hermit, and I’ve taken that as my way in. Dave, if you…

Toes for God

God loves each of us as if there were only one of us.  – St. Augustine If not for my Mom, God might have taken my toes, along with my horse and my money. I was the third of six, middle daughter, youngest of the ‘big kids.’ Sometimes I felt a bit invisible to Mom….

Gideons

Joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. – Romans 12:12 When I was a kid, the Gideons International gave out New Testaments to all kids in Grade 5. I remember my big sister got one, though it wasn’t until she was 15 that she really took up with our churchy neighbours – for…

Cake

I will give you a new heart, and put a new spirit within you. – Ezekiel 36:26 It’s supposed to happen, isn’t it? Isn’t every stereotypical mom ever supposed to badger her kids to give her grandbabies? Mom didn’t do that. At various times in my life, I’ve interpreted that different ways. Mostly, I believe…