The Coming of the Light

photo by the Elk Valley Bear Aware program

The dark hunkers down over the north west,

settling around the ears of

mountain and  forest,

river and swamp,
raccoon and rabbit,

probing  arctic fingers

across the misting field,

horse blowing steam 

over the icy barn bucket.

The gray sky lowers

like a billowing skirt,

till it is

scarcely above our heads,

oppressive and laden

with unspent snow,

erasing all memory

of a horizon.

As the day shortens, 

from morning coffee

to afternoon tea,

night to night flits past -

with just a cameo appearance

made by Day.

The trees, 

draped in their mist-shawls

are waiting.

Bear, curled into the root-bowl

of grandfather cedar,

is dreaming of warmer days,

of fish and berry.

Wolf, fleet, shimmering, stealthy,

seeks his supper in a world

gone silent, still
and sleeping. 

All chilly beings huddle 

into their nests

and coats and blankets,

fix their eyes upon the sky

with patient hope,

as expectant as chickens.

All is suspended, waiting,

through moments frozen in time.

We are, all of us, 

- tree and bear, 

wolf and pond and withering vine  -

just waiting for

the Coming of the Light.

Mary is tending bar today over at dVerse Poets Pub, where her prompt is: the Light. Do check out some of the other links for this prompt, as there are always wonderful responses at dVerse.

A Lost Art

google image

Dear Pen,
For years and years,
I wrote my daily life into letters:
to my mother,
to my friends,
to my grandma
and, a week or so later,
through my letter slot
poured letters fat and juicy
in return.

With what delight and anticipation
I opened them,
and relished the lives
penned within.

Now letter writing
is a lost art,
replaced by emails
which, once read,
go into the delete folder,
instantly forgotten,
not cherished, wrapped in ribbon,
saved in keepsake boxes.

Today on the news,
it was announced that soon 
a single stamp
will cost a dollar in Canada.
And home mail delivery will be phased out
and replaced by community lock boxes.

It is the end of an era,
and a sad commentary
on just how effectively 
corporate thinking
has increased the cost of life
for those of us at the bottom
in order to maintain the wealth
of those at the top.

Now we watch
our simple pleasures,
one by one,
fade away
into a past which looks,
in comparison,
ever more golden.

Kim's prompt at Verse First is A Lost Art. I wasnt sure what I would write until I heard the noon news. Sigh. I remember all those letters, a steady stream of them, daily, back and forth to my mother and my friend, also a writer, as we raised our kids together and shared our journey as young moms. I wish I had saved them, now. What a treasure trove they would be! History regained. 

I was not able to manage a rhyme scheme. My head is Jello this week!!

A Happy Puppy

Smokey is one very cute puppy.

He is bringing his folks

a lot of joy.

I love his heart-shaped face.

In the snow, he pounces,

like a baby wolf.

Coming from the north,

he likely has some  wolf ancestry.

SONG OF THE EARTH

The Elaho

photo by Jon Merk

The earth sings in liquid notes:

roar of waterfall,

trickle of creek,

rush of river,

ebb and flow of the ocean tide.

Let it trickle through your fingers.

It is precious,

the basis of all life.

Thank the water.

Pray to the water.

It hears you.

The earth sings

in rushing wind,

in crackling fire,

in soft breezes,

in thunder, 

in crack of lightning.

Listen with your very being

to the message

coming to you

on the wind.

Listen for direction

in the way that

you must go.

The earth sings

through its creatures:

cry of eagle,

chirp of junco,

caw of raven,

howl of wolf

in the wintery midnight,

roar of lion

on the hot savannah,

snow leopard

on its icy slope.

Listen to their songs and cries.

They speak their own language,

but if we listen,

they can tell us much.

The earth sings

through the Two-Leggeds

who walk this land:

songs of joy and pain,

songs of hope and transformation,

songs of humanity

and transcendence.

When we open our hearts

to these songs,

the entire world

takes wing.

Madiba! 

Your song opened our hearts.

Your passing renews our commitment

to your dream.

Owl, Wisdom-Keeper

back yard Port Alberni owl

Sister Owl, Wisdom-Keeper,
sitting in the forest green,

bird-between-two-worlds,

all that we know

and the unseen,

within your cellular memory

live legendary flights

above the nether-world,
bubbling gases,

mist-swirled,
beneath the starry night.

Broad-winged,

you swoop across

canyons now turned
to river-beds,
glide atop the valley floor,
once volcano,
long before.

In your mystic gaze

dwell myth and magic,

legend, mystery,

stories of another time

when Owl and Man were free,

an ancient century ago,
now, in reprise :

those memories are still living

somewhere behind your eyes.

Sister Owl,

Friend of the Moon,
you've come too soon;

harbinger of change,

of mysteries beautiful

and strange,

under your folded wing

you hold the key.

Carve the message

you would tell 

into the bark of 

this old tree,

unlock the ancient manuscript

borne upon your beak

to tell me all

that you would have 

me seek.

Then, Oracle, lead me

into the forest's midnight dark,
I'll carry with me your message,
imprinted on the bark.
Open for me
the double-sided gate,
lead me

where shimmering shape-shifters

and silent, padding wolves
in peace 

await.

Tell me, Owl,

what it is that I must do

to be proved worthy,
if it's not too late

to thus fulfill

my fate.

Well, kids, this one took several attempts. Normally owls send me off into flights of rapture. But I am still light-headed and dizzy, (and not in a good way), so it has been hard to get done all that needs to be done. Sigh. But! Tomorrow is another day!

This is posted for Kim's prompt at Verse First: Owls  Do check out the other owlish links - they are a HOO-t (sorry, cant help it!)

p.s. this prompt reminds me of Nikki Scully's quote: "Owls are the doorway into the unknown." I have written of them before, but wanted to post something new for this challenge. 

Proof Positive that Human Beings are Amazing

ENJOY!!!

Dog Rescue

Meet Smokey, my newest adorable granddog, rescued from a garbage dump in deep freeze, forty degree below, northern Saskatchewan, where he and his litter were thrown away soon after birth. The rescue groups in Regina do amazing work. Smokey has been fostered and cared for since his rescue, so he is happy and trusting and utterly thrilled to have found his forever family.

With the SPCA and all of the rescue groups available, it boggles my mind that people could be so uncaring as to toss out a litter of puppies. God bless the rescuers and the wonderful work they do. This little guy found my son and daughter-in-law's home through Bright Eyes Dog Rescue.

18 year old Yogi, the cat, is not

nearly as thrilled as Jon and Zenny,

about the new addition!

The dogs in the northern community in question are not spayed or neutered, and when the inevitable puppies come, they are unwanted and discarded. As always, there are solutions. But people have to care enough to call for help.

(p.s. dont worry, Grandma has sent a box of puppy-appropriate treats and chew toys for the little guy, who looks a bit daunted at the size of this bone. The box should arrive tomorrow.  And I have banned the pig ear as well. Chemicals, questionable production practices, and a choking/digestion hazard.)

Smokey has a brother still at the rescue who looks exactly like Pup. I am trying to remain practical, difficult where puppies are involved.