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Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

Queen of Cliffs

Perched cliffside,
Crowned by peeling arbutus,
On a dais of rock,
Festooned in lichen, grasses, succulents,
and sun-dappled cushions of bright moss.

The wind’s cool whisper,
A mantle across my shoulders.

Beneath my feet,
The ocean.
Wind ruffled but quiet ,
Waves caressing and fawning like a supplicant.

Were I not wiser,
I would believe it’s lamblike enticement,
And forget the cold and the fury of the winter past.

I am queen.
But it is a passing illusion,
Lasting only until the elements reassert their power,
And send me scurrying to shelter.

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This week we were saddened by the recent death of the beloved step son of a dear friend.  The following two poems were inspired by the grief experienced by his parents.

In Honor Of


Stop the clocks,

Halt the traffic,

Hush the prattling crowds,

And shroud the sun.

A young man has died.

My mind desperate to reconcile

the paradox of a child preceding its elder.

The metered beat of my heart seizes,

My breath unnecessary, as time suspends its forward march.

The mantle of grief laid unwelcome across my shoulders,

It’s leaden weight, dulling thought, but not throbbing waves of anguish.

Strike a bargain,

Wind back the hours,

Reset the stars,

That I can look into young eyes, and see the crinkled laughter,

That we can share a hug and indelibly imprint the loving moment to memory,

That I can advise him to take the right path instead of left and thereby cheat fate.

A young man has died.

Before my heart is willing to beat again,

Before I draw an unfettered breath,

The river of time resumes its course,

Sweeping people unheeding past me.

I watch them and wonder,

Don’t they know?

A young man has died.

The Journey of Grief

I am a reluctant traveller,

This is not a journey I’ve chosen.

I sit by the road side,

Waiting loyally, like a dog that has lost it’s master.

Exhausted, and uncertain about what to do next,

Time remains suspended.

Loath to take that first step that signifies moving on.

Somehow living seems disloyal.

I sit in the netherworld between living and dying and wait,

for understanding to come,

for healing,

for a miracle.

Friends gather and sit a while,

I am lonely in my grief, but not alone,

But eventually my companions are called to their own lives.

“If you need anything . . . call.”

But I have no energy for calling.

I sigh, realizing it is the first breath in too long,

I notice the sun has come up again,

And the seasons have changed.

Sighing again I struggle to a wavering stand.

Friends breathe their own sigh of relief.

I’m moving again,

But that’s different from living.

For now I am making “as if”,

At least it makes them feel better.

One step, then another.

The days go by,

I am hollow and insubstantial.

A black and white figure in a world of color.

And then one day it happens,

Just once and fleeting.

I smile,

A genuine one, that I feel inside,

Not forced for appearances sake.

I have taken a tentative step back into life.

The journey is not all forward.

I often wander head down and aimless,

Some days stumbling on steep pitches,

And on others, friends appear unexpected to steady me.

Eventually I pause at a viewpoint,

And looking back, marvel at my progress.

It has been an arduous journey,

But as I come to the end of this detour,

I realize I have learned much.

I have come to terms,

I am stronger, wiser,

And yes, happy again.

I have laid down the burden of grief,

To find solace in my memories.

I have learned to welcome life once more,

Each day I live joyfully is a tribute to my loved one lost,

And a lesson to those that remain.

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My 85 year old mother glances out the window
at pelting rain and storm tossed trees
“It’s a dirty day.”  she observes, content to be snug in her kitchen.

I gaze out the window beside her,
Secretly caged
Drawn by and longing to flee into the storm
to be one with the universe,
feeling the wind in my face
and the power of the storm pulsing through my soul.

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The Call

The universe is expanding
conscious, breath-taking, infinite
It’s heartbeat
resonating and rumbling in my chest

My soul accepts the invitation
and expands
with exhilaration, anticipation and love

I am scared
and in awe

I am a reflection of the infinite
an echo of spirit

I am a pebble thrown in the pond
creating ripples of reflection
remembering the sparkle and wonder of the stars
sharing, teaching, revealing
glimpses of eternity, purpose and love

I am a call to follow your heart
remember your destiny
to revel in-spirit, love and happiness
to help create a more loving, peaceful and connected planet.

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When I was young,
I had a purple Chivas Regal bag
filled with glass marbles.

Boulders and pee wees, steelies, cat’s eyes and crystals.
Childhood treasures quickly lost in the playground dust.

When I am old,
I will carry my treasures closer to my heart.

Perfect crystalline moments
captured from the tumbling kaleidoscope of life.

The squeak and bite of a Saskatchewan winter,
the haven of a friend’s arms,
puppy love and a baby’s first cry.

Triumph’s and embarrassments,
tragedy and simple pleasures.

Crystal gems in a rich living mosaic.

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On The Beach

Crowds of kids,

playing,

pretending,

befriending,

rehearsing for life.

Spindly cold legs wading tentatively like shore birds,

running, screaming, guffawing,

marinating in joy and mud.

Driving down the freeway last week,

returning from wedding dress shopping with my daughter,

I witness my first murder of crows,

cawing, flying, perching and pecking.

Now sitting on the beach,

I wonder.

Is there such a thing as a murder of children?

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