In the spaces between
family name
schools
group membership
we live alone
to know ourselves.
To belong to the wider world
fills us with vulnerability.
In groups of family or friends
we risk being lost.
Lost in
ideas,
opinions
beliefs
image
until we know that
belonging begins in
the silence of in-between.
“Longing, felt fully, carries us to belonging.”
~ Tara Brach, psychologist
one of those days
heavy
sluggish
With a to-do list
not so long
nothing earth shattering
clutter and numbers to deal with
But on one of these days
when I want to push it all aside
I begin with breakfast and a nap
‘til a fragile bit of energy
lets me address the numbers
the clutter much later …………
“The most radical act is sometimes to refuse to be hurried.”
~ Lawrence Nault, Canadian author and filmmaker
Furies of wind tossed
winter debris hither and yon
threatened to make kites
of dust covers
in yards and balconies
danced with branches
freed into airborne rain
new leaves opened
into the wet wildness
squirrels, cats and birds
abandoned sidewalks and trees
electric technologies snatched
into silent darkness
neighbours together-ed
for reassurance and laughter.
“Wind tries to show Tree how to run wild.
Tree: “I cannot leave this place.”
Wind: “Then let’s dance.”
~ Terri Guillemets, writer
Over the wires
Balcony cleared
~~~
Clouds gather
Yellow sky
Air smells of rain
~~~
Energy tightens
My body thrills
“Then the storm broke, and the dragons danced.”
~ George R.R. Martin, “Fire & Blood”
I didn’t notice the exact date or year that fire hydrants turned
yellow from red.
Nothing that drew my attention when
kids needed to get to baseball,
or the groceries needed putting away,
or bills were stacking up or work schedules interfered with street life.
One evening,
I sat across from this stolid guy,
his paint crumbling,
marked up around the top.
Time to ponder this deep question.
It’s been since the 1950’s!
At home, I looked it up.
Why?
A perennial question for a child;
a question I keep for such occasions
No answer was forthcoming,
it just squatted there,
little arms awaiting fire hoses.
Again, at home I looked it up.
Yellow is more visible to fire fighters than red!
Simple, logical and now I can rest my tired brain.
“A fire hydrant is not something you
want to lose, especially in an emergency.”
~ Shannon Wiersbitzky, What Flowers Remember
It was still early evening
the sky clear and blue
a robin landed high in the tree
hopped branch to branch
settling in the centre of the tree.
Trying to hurry and be still
I willed this bird of spring
to sit still while branches waved.
Birds, animals and little children
do not settle in one spot too long
so regardless of fading light
I clicked the button on my phone,
His red breast, hidden in the poor light
only showed off in black and white.
“Color is descriptive. Black and white is interpretive.”
~ Elliot Erwitt, documentary photographer
(1928 ~ 2023)
This yellow tulip tries to outshine
robins, sparrows and finches
each year from the same bed
where west sun warms the wall.
Never mulched against winter
unless with autumn leaves
or dried grasses, the little bulb
rests through the long winter
reappears when the warmth returns.
“Wherever life plants you, bloom with grace.”
~ French Proverb
