Three score and sixteen years passed; within them
the curtained rooms
of childhood,
opened doors
of adolescence,
many stair steps
of an adult world
confusion in an uncertain race
too fast to understand life’s twists and turns
until knowledge blossoms from it all;
accepting the past as past;
standing firm in today.
“In all beginnings dwells a magic force
For guarding us and helping us to live.
~ Hermann Hesse, Stages
Author’s note: blogpost inspired by Stages by Hermann Hesse
The coffee shop was full,
alive with conversation.
Perfect for my afternoon bus trip
to write and have a treat.
City neighbourhoods
showed off! Neat yards,
with grinning pumpkins
and Hallowe’en decor.
The glow of autumn lined
curving boulevards and avenues.
I have felt my heart lighten
when I walk beneath the gold.
The day’s work is done,
all the words are written
or read and my home is on
the verge of being tidy.
“Lovely days don’t come to you, you should walk to them.”
~ Rumi
There was a storm coming.
a storm and a struggle
and I learned to say ‘no’
no umbrella would suffice
for the wild winds coming
because I learned to say ‘no’
silence crashed in the midst
being brave was a never thing;
only in daring stories, but
because ‘no’ meant different
ways, I learned to act bravely
to step aside when storms brew
with heat and turmoil in the air
and storms will always pass.
“Out of difficulties grow miracles.”
~ Jean de la Bruyère
French philosopher and moralist
1645 ~ 1696
Political rhetoric aside, all I see
through dangling words is a board
fence, paint chipped and in need
of a touch up. Possibly much more
than a touch up. Real foundational
repair, not just propping up, but I
suppose because it’s not my fence,
I don’t need to worry about it? …….
“Rhetoric is the art of ruling the minds of men.”
~ Plato
Author's note: just listened to the Saskatchewan Provincial Debate.
Just a walk down any street
and I want a paint brush to dip
in all the colours of autumn to
bring them home with me. It
seems indelicate to make an
image that can be so easily
deleted. When the crumpled
tissue paper flowers have been
put to bed, summer colours have become tidy mounds of black;
replaced by fluttering reds and
golds, prairie florals in bloom.
“Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.”
~ Albert Camus
It’s more than just Monday.
It’s an everyday thing.
Like the trees and the seasons.
Trees that stand guard and
seasons that change.
When I got in my little blue car
to drive away in 1988 I couldn’t
know that I would grow up for
32 years. I couldn’t know of all
the seasons that would pass, that I
would return to new growth and
growing in my family; carrying
all the ancestral bits of DNA of
an ever spreading family. Branches of an original tree. But for now, I hear the rustle of golden leaves,
stirred by the wind of a changing
season and know that I am home.
It’s more than just Monday.
It’s an everyday thing.
Like the trees and the seasons.
Trees that stand guard and
seasons that change.
“We can only be said to be alive in those moments
when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.”
~ Thornton Wilder
Wings beat in the pause
between the bee in flight
and the bee landing on
a blossom. No hesitation
in crossing this space of a
breath. Merely on a heading
to gather sustenance before
a pause to the next blossom.
“Take walk with a turtle. And behold the world in pause.”
~ Bruce Feller
