Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Wounded Jaguar



The wounded jaguar came when I was dreaming
and lay beside my bed with bloodied paw.
The jaguar's eyes were wild and dark and gleaming,
and mine were open wide with breathless awe.

Jaguar lay beside my bed with bloodied paw.
Traveling through dream-time,we met a shaman.
My eyes were open wide with breathless awe
at  leopard, jungle wild, I, just a layman.

Traveling through dream-time, we met a shaman.
When  his gaze beheld the jaguar's wound, it healed.
The leopard, jungle wild, I, just a layman,
yet the secret of healing wounds had been revealed.

When his gaze beheld the jaguar's wound, it healed.
The jaguar's eyes were wild and dark and gleaming.
The secret of healing wounds had been revealed,
because the wounded jaguar came when I was dreaming.

A pantoum. Just because.

Monday, June 29, 2015

Princess Bride

This photo by Nina Green Photography
The rest are mine, other than those credited.

My beautiful granddaughter, Ali, on her wedding day. 
She loves the forest as much as I do, 
and Brian proposed to her in the forest.






Before the ceremony



I fell in love with this tree.
I believe it was mutual.


The groom's parents' back yard was such
a beautiful setting - magical.
It was decorated like a fairyland.




My beautiful daughter, Lisa,
Mother of the bride and
Matron of Honor



Grandson Tyler


Grandson Josh


Grandson Caleb


Ali's son Damian, my great-grandson



I suppose I'm to blame for
the size of this clan, LOL!


Sister Lori


The girls


The guys


Adorable flower girls


Tyler walked his sister down the aisle




[Nina Green Photography photo]


Ali, trying not to cackle
All my fault, she told me later. LOL.



A new little family, joining together



                                     

Mr and Mrs Chase and Damian


                                     
The Wedding Party






Ali and Damian Selfie


Family Dance


Brian, the Protector


The Tables



The Dancing



This tree was Feeling the Love!


Grandmother Moon, sending us 
some magical moondust

It was wonderful, kids. Ali had planned and decorated down to the last detail and she said it was exactly the way she wanted it to be. A golden keepsake for the memory banks. I am completely thrilled, and wish the young couple a joyous journey of discovery. May laughter ride along in their chest pockets!


Saturday, June 27, 2015

NO TURNING BACK




On the path of transformation
there is no turning back :
autumn turns to winter,
middle-aged to old,
every step and every moment
moving us forward.

We carry nostalgia
for the times that are no more,
resistance to the speed
rushing us through
our shortening days.

The secret is to let go 
like the last leaf
on the fat old oak
and drift dreamily through 
the present moment,

Knowing that above all, 
around all, 
beyond all,
all is as it is meant to be.
We wander through our days
wrapped all in beauty.

The moon will be waxing 
half-full tonight.
Listen for Wild Woman's howl.


One from 2011 today, kids. Posting it for Poets United's Poetry Pantry tomorrow morning Check it out for a lot of good reading. Am busy with my granddaughter's wedding, which is going to be magical and wonderful. Will take lots of photos to share with you.

Friday, June 26, 2015

Morning Smile


Anyone know what kind of hummingbird this is?

Someone has a sweet tooth!

Thursday, June 25, 2015

Ashes and Bark



I spread your ashes
in the bark-bowl of an old tree,
fire's embers red-hot, sizzling,
the last of your radiant beauty 
aflame against black night.
Coyote Woman prays, voice and drum,
at the river, asking it to flow,
serene as a dream of atonement,
its song teaching us what it is
to give, to forgive,
and to finally let go.

For Words Count With Mama Zen: to use the list words and write a poem of 60 words or less. I used bark / ashes / to flow / fire / black / old / what / to give. My poem is  60  words, counting hyphenated words as one word. 

A Smile From My Father


I closed the book on those early chapters,
since aging is about embracing what was,
letting go of what wasn't.
But I remember how you loved to tell jokes,
acting them out, making us wait, grinning, 
for the killer punchlines.

I got my love of music from you.
You played a mean sax, a mellow alto clarinet. 
When the band got grooving,
towards midnight, my mom said 
the walls and floors themselves
thumped and wavered with the beat.

Sometimes you'd get me up in the middle of the night
to sing and dance for your friends.
I'd do a song, a self-taught, shuffle-ball-change,
in my ratty old plaid bathrobe,
bow to the applause,
go back to bed,  face shining,
feeling like a star.
I would be discovered!
Just a matter of time.

I remember after you died,
when I was just fourteen,
I was standing in the aisle 
of Long's Drug Store, up at Capri,
and oddly, there you were, incomprehensibly,
behind the lunch counter, 
with the waitresses.
Impossible that there would be 
another man who looked exactly like you, 
wearing your clothes,
looking at me, and smiling.

I turned away,
because...it couldn't be you.
Could it?

And now I know it was.
You peeked in on me
to make sure I was all right,
offering your unspoken love
through your smile
from the other world.

- a little late for Father's Day, but here it is.

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

The Mad Sun


The mad sun rides the heavens like a cyclops,
scorching all with his glare.
Grass turns brown and crunchy.
Wildfires  incinerate  the hills.
The water tables run alarmingly low.
And it is only June.
Somehow late-summer 
has come too soon.

for Susan's prompt at Mid Week Motif: Entering Summer

Here in the valley we are breaking all records for "hottest spring on record", "lower water table than has ever been recorded this early in the season", "the entire provincial annual budget for fighting wildfires has already been used up." It is a huge concern. Yet all we can do is move forward into the days and weeks, and try to stay out of the sun.