ONCE IN AUTUMN

 

Once in autumn.....

Nekiah hand-stitched every leaf,

with unerring eye,

making Tree Spirit costumes

for you and your friend,

Isaac Blue Sky.

We didn't know,

back then,

just how precious

were those fleeting days

of grace,

how quickly life

was flying by,

too fast the pace.

First, you grew.

Too soon,

before I was ready,

before you were, too,

you were out of the nest

and away;

for your heartbreaks

my heart, too, would pay,

you, so young and heedless

and rash,

my hair slowly turning

the color of

silvery ash.

Too soon,

Nekiah was gone.

It was cancer.

Isaac Blue Sky's life

was forever

fractured.

Those innocent faces

up there,

those round trusting eyes

that enraptured,

those smiles that had

not yet known pain........

remind me that once,

once in autumn,

we all lived precious days

that will not,

          will not ever

                     come again.

SAMHAIN

 

They say the dead are among us, we just can't see them. On Samhain, when the veils between the worlds are thin, are your paws padding softly beside me, as they did for so long?I keep waiting, for the weight of your snout on the side of my bed, to wake me each morning, as it did all your life, and on the morning after you died, then never again. Perhaps you are just the hint of a cold breeze on my cheek, an ache, some tears, a sigh. Where have you gone, my big, noisy boy, when I can no longer feel you, other than a missing that goes on forever, in my heart?

Remembering you
is joy and pain together -
tears, a smile, an ache.

for Frank at dVerse - Halloween / Samhain

What Remains

When all the world is changing,
rearranging,
and the life we knew is struggling
to survive the wrecking ball of chance,
a frenzied kind of dance,

I walk my heart into the rainforest
to find my way,
the great trees - eternal - breathing peace,
whispering to we noisy humans
"please find a better path
that helps us stay."

When down is up and justice
is being trampled underfoot,
what still remains?

Kindness.
Our loving hearts.
Protecting our neighbours. 
All that is true and plain. 
Marching, singing,
hearts rising in fierce knowing
that democracy must stand.

In the midst of floods and fire,
storm and warming seas,
what still endures
across the land?

Mother Earth,
in her heartbreaking beauty,
caring for her many beings,
even those who've
lost their way.

For darkness may endure
for a time, but the arc
of justice is long
and, in the end,
my friend,
only what is true and gold
can stay.*

for Susan's prompt at What's Going On: Eternal/Unchanging

*A reverse take on Frost's poem "Nothing Gold Can Stay". In this poem, I surmise that, no matter how tough the times, humans caring for each other, kindness, hands reaching out, feet marching - justice itself - all the best and golden qualities of humans - and Mother Earth's own struggle to survive - will carry on.

We live in hope. 

The Calla Lilies Are Wilting

 

The calla lilies are wilting,
and I pluck their fronds
as they languish.
But the geraniums have
a few brave blossoms yet,
and I am loathe to empty
my potted garden
while they are still 
working so hard
to stay alive.

I think how bare
that space will be
after the profusion of summer blooms,
once the pots are emptied
and tucked under the eaves
till next spring.

Yet the rains are here,
more days than not
and, soon, one sunny afternoon,
I will need to end
their gallant sojourn
under my big window.

It is the season edging us
into winter storms
and wildish waves.
The calla lilies are wilting,
in the time when all the creatures,
including us,
prepare for the long, dark,
cozy days of winter
and we all start gathering nuts
and singing
our cold weather songs.

for Kim's prompt at dVerse: creating our own micro-seasons

KINDNESS, IN THE TIME OF COVID

 

I remember those days:
at first, I was afraid to exit my apartment,
germs lurking everywhere - on the railings,
the doors, the laundry equipment.

We looked at each other in the CoOp,
eyes smiling above our masks,
staying carefully apart from each other,
protecting each other. Only
ten of us allowed in at a time,
in those early days.

I remember washing vegetables,
wiping down library books.

In our small hospital, exhausted doctors
and nurses tended the very ill.
All staff wore layers of protective gear.
They could not afford to get sick
with so many needing care.

Some staff rented motel rooms
so as not to carry germs home
to their loved ones.

We had two ambulances and
only one oxygen machine;
if it accompanied a patient out of town,
it was a long wait till it returned.

Dr. Bonnie Henry was our lifeline then,
with her calm instruction, her voice
on the news, enjoining us all
to be kind.

What I loved most: nation wide,
on the evening news, at 6 p.m.,
we watched people coming out
onto their balconies, all over the province,
banging pots to thank the medical staff
and service workers,
who had to walk into danger every day,
risking their own health,
worrying about their own families.

What I remember most, from those fearful times,
is kindness, and how dedicated everyone was
to caring for each other. 

for Mary's prompt at What's Going On: Remembering Covid

HERON II

 

Christine Lowther photo

Heron,
you once soared the skies,
perched in treetops,
picky-toed along the mudflats
in search of a meal.

Now the tide
has brought in
what is left of you:
two feathered wings,
still connected,
the rest of you washed away.

How did your end come?
I hope it was peaceful,
swift, before you knew
you were leaving
this world
you loved.

In silence,
we spread your wings,
extended them
as they were in life,
so your spirit could
fly free.

THINGS TO SAY INSTEAD OF "I'M FINE"

Remote Passages photo

On the street, passing villagers ask

"how are you?" and the expected response

is 'Fine, thanks,' even if one is hobbling,

and the other already walking away

before I can ask them the same.

For how is there time, as we're

rushing off to our various errands, to say,

(though sometimes I try): "It is so beautiful

today, it makes my heart sing" or "When

I saw the eagle fly across the harbour,

my heart flew along with him, for just

a little way."

We generally have an unspoken agreement

not to mention trump, covid, or the climate crisis,

the intense heat, the wildfires,
the horrifying floods,
houses and whole towns chest-deep in water,

climate refugees already

on the move, though leaders stay tight-lipped

about the state of things, as if the world

were not crumbling and melting
and sliding into the sea.

Wouldn't they be shocked

if I stopped right there

on the sidewalk, and said: All my life

I've loved people who never felt loved enough.

I gave all that I had, though it seems to be

forgotten, suffered many losses,

yet stayed grateful for the beauty

all around me, and the gifts I've

been given. From where I was to

where I am now was an amazing journey,

for which I'm thankful, and I'm tired now,

my quiet heart at peace.

But "Fine, thanks," I say, smiling,

which is likely a relief

to those who ask.

Inspired by "List of Things to Say Instead of I'm Fine" by Marlin M. Jenkins.