Thursday, January 30, 2014

Woodland in Winter

Snowstorm Detail


That I have ever wanted to have in my life,

I have in my life.

And all that I have wanted to see in the world,

I see now in the world


And these are things like self-responsibility


Outbreaks of wisdom

Breakthroughs of hope

Love bombs of understanding


Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Scene From a Dream



The swing of the car round the corner into Sutton Junction

Woman walking with dog on slush

Was suddenly unbelievably perfect

Telephone pole, perfect

Railroad crossing sign, also perfect.


Deeply moved, I swung my

Gaze upward to that line of winter-black arrowhead spruce trees north of the railroad line

Also radiating waves of perfection,

Like Angel song, like

Divine intervention.


I gasped.


Alone there in the car, driving still, shifting into fifth,

I had to breathe slowly, deeply to calm myself, to

Stop the tears of deepest held joy

Everything was perfect. Everything. I looked at

The bumper of the car ahead of me… That too

Radiated the divine perfection of the heavens in all of their grandeur.


These words are not enough to convey

But they, like the road and the sky and the woman with her dog,

Although limited

Are perfect.


And this is coming from the heart. This is not

Mind speaking to you.

This was all in the heart and is still.

It becomes all that I am -the


Perception of perfection in all that is. 



Wednesday, January 15, 2014

The Perfection of Now

Sweet Soul Yearning

Eastern Townships Evening

White and silver and black

Shadows and clear, cold silence:

Just me and the moon

And the wind

For company.

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Light the Grey, Such is the Nature of Hope

When I Look for Beauty, I Find It

I Wear My Mother's Pants


She doesn’t want their shape anymore,

Their size anymore.

I find to my surprise that they

Suit me just fine.

My mother’s pants


She is this old, bent woman

With legs like thick tree trunks, immovable, dead weight

I am young still, moving, vibrant

She is crooked and weak.

Yet I look into the mirror at my mother’s pants

How they fit me just fine,

How the bumps and curves and all the

                        places where I learn about pain

How they fit me just fine.


There is this word that I am becoming now:

There was freedom, before. I was

Becoming that.

Now there is this other word:



Thursday, January 2, 2014

Both Light and Dark

Inside Out


Quickening of will at dawn

This Winter’s morn with north wind

Lashing up old snow


Heart’s glow

Of burgeoning becoming

Lightens the gloaming

Forever twilight, half-night

Tired longing


Sudden ideas,  threading bright in the west

Let’s put them to the test,

Let’s do and move and flush

Into Spring, into love, into

Colours that pulse like blood.

Feels stretching, feels banjo-bright, feels jam-jam light,

Feels freshening.


Let’s freshen, quicken, pulse, move,