Dark mind and paranoia sat upon my house, so I left Dogs and all, and we took to the bush Up Mill Creek the news was 24/7, relentless Spring cannot be stopped, whip the Mother though they may I can’t claim ‘we’ at the moment, though I know, I know There is no abdication from…
Category: wood
30/30/2022 Day 6: Birds
We fly at each other, across the human -sized streets of this ancient gathering ground, these mellow golden stone streets We are not old, but youth has flown and taken roost in leggy fledglings blushing beside us. Look at us. These bushy years, these old dilemmas rubber boot years worn low to the point between…
30/30/22 Day 1: Fools
That little bird, the other day singing in the morning, tipped his hand – how little he cared to hide from our great galumphing presence; though we did construe his slight and ruffled lozenge of a body, eye-height at the trailside as an offer, along with his voice – What else in this very moment…
Day 19: Constant/Transient/Permanent
from the bee wing to the soul comes a thrum, at once low and above the mind line, fine and high, lime-bright tingle of song, shimmer on the lake of attention breath of trees, yellow from the pine arms to the sun a cloud rolls: that’s my love of a season, windborne marked by fragrant…
Day 6: Lungs
What do we really know? Rainforest lungs of the planet, and we northerners enjoined to rail against Brazilian excess here, in the temples of Canfor, Weyerhauser and further west, Macmillan Bloedel with their measuring eyes. My grandfather, too knew how to estimate, from the ground both the height of a tree and its likely board-feet;…
Day 5: waiting
in the trees, hung from a pine the rope and plank, above the root you kick to push, this same one causes you to tuck your feet up, if you’ve got someone behind you. the wheel rolls back here until time grants traction speak enough of you, no more push against the root, and lift….
Day 2: not taken
speak to me in must of grain-bins that willow hand left trailing, strums the fence. i never thought you’d go. same old well-trodden heartlines i chased you down a dusty driveway to tell you goodbye. you stood blinking hands full of watercans. i was leaving for the world, and you just trod on homeward. is…
Lemons
When life hands you lemons, praisethe lemon tree, bless the water, blessthe bees, thank the sun, revere the soilbreathe deeply of this, glory passedfrom hand to hand. O raise your voice in joyous salutationfor the seasons in rotation, spiralingseed to shoot to bloom to fruit, each treea true verse of the One Song, dancewith lemons,…
The Grove in the Night
It was night in Kyoto. In a grove on a mountain, in July 1995, as I was preparing to leave Japan, I received one of the great gifts of my life. It began with the Kyoto Connection, an international arts gathering. Over several months, I’d taken the stage at the Connection in various guises: as…
Late June Garden
Gratitude for the lilac white petunias tiny papyrus the boxes of garden, off-square the potato bathtub these hillbilly choices, my higgledy carpentry and green life that says yes nonetheless gratitude for the patio this ache in my back from the building of it that pile of bricks for the path yet to lay these eye…
Camino Edmonton Day 4: depths
In their black in dark hours, grandmothers crawl up the Way of the Cross, proclaiming by this deed, the immutable glory to come above Ajijic, knees raw, backs craggy, grandmothers and mountains bathe in Easter sunrise. Where the body shivers and aches, the spirit must step in. Where language and history differ, there too, spirit….
Prairiepomes 