Sarah in Vancouver

an arrow flung to farthest reaches
she starts over
new landscape
new people
new ideas

all for a dream

look into those eyes
and see the layers of love
leading to courageous
accomplishment

Beethoven

he doesn’t wait for you to answer the door
barging in with greetings
and then maintaining a steady flow of

scintillation

you can’t get a word in edgewise but you don’t want to
because you remain still slack-jawed as the brilliant intensity
washes over you like wave after wave of warm sea water on
a beach in Crete taking your little distractions with them lost
in the beautiful blue roar until the final expression and you

know something you didn’t before

Fisher Kings

we all lie here with our wounds
radiating out
poisoning the wintry land around us

the grail is there
but it is unknown -------unseen
a simple melody unheard amid the
cacophony

sometimes it takes
a gentle hand on the chest
or a smiling face on a screen
or a lingering hug just so

and we can drink grace from the grail

sing the song of spring

Hope

dirty crusts of snow in background
through rectangle window warped by weather
bare trees with unplugged Christmas lights dangling

on this side of glass cactus begins to bloom
one pink blossom broken out
a celebration of colour in bleak March world

Lent

bare branches of maple tree
-----------dipping downward
tips sticking in snow mound beside driveway
waiting for release
-----------rescue from winter penance

dirty white covers most of yard

ditch
------part ice
=====part snow
---------==part water

inside house
minor keys fill spaces
voices full of longing
----------vibrate heart

remembering the love of warm embrace
spring sun melting snow
bringing green maple buds of
resurrection

Political Poem

contempt confidence control
-------------conservative collapse
papers flying
-------------brown desks empty

election looming

substance or image
attack ads or policy
mistakes or merit
platform or photo ops
worth or war chest
heart or strategy
will more than 60% vote?
winner or strongest loser?
democracy?

Bobby

white uniform blood splattered
he kneels
----------cradling shattered head
bus boy comforts crushed candidate
hotel kitchen chaos
rosary beads offered
----------and accepted
bridging hierarchy

hope bleeding out

The Goodness of the Human Heart

cards fill surfaces
flowers bloom bringing bright hope
well wishes abound

Serving Communion

this is my body broken for you

I stand and take the basket of metaphor and walk
down aisle to back of sanctuary and serve soft squares
to waiting hands floating on waves of meaning
and sentiment some have done this for sixty-five years
reconciling and making eye contact becoming one with
the body individual grains crushed and baked into large
loaf the body of Christ

this is my blood shed for you

silver tray cool in my hands little plastic cups filled with
red juice one for each thumb and forefinger holding on
carefully not spilling despite some shaking doing this in
remembrance the cross shattering our faith with the
reality and violence of the human condition I sit down
after handing back the tray and then lift out my own cup
cupping it in my human hands and wait until we all drink
together the sweet drops of

ritual -------reflection------- rebirth

Unused

elegant imposing
it rests rusty brown on hardwood floor
made in an age of ornament
---------------curling designs carved into solid wood

most of the time it silently speaks of potential
a fancy surface for vases, candles, pictures, cards

but it can still play
---------fill room, house with the fading force
---------------------soft hammers striking stretched strings
----------------------------------creating vibrant vibrations

Chopin and Bach emerge from stereo speakers

The Viewing

it wasn’t him
the hair not right
-----------so straight slicked
the mouth all wrong
his jaw never looked like that
-----------so severe, so unconcerned

I turned away
thinking of the living mouth
-----------pursed lips of anger and threat
-----------open smile of joy in joke
-----------forced frown of deep thought
-----------kind smile of the listener
-----------intense precision of the lecturer
-----------lilting sway of the storyteller
and whispered my goodbye

body buried in polished solid wood

spirit lifted in our moulded memory

Morphine

you close your eyes
and you’re somewhere else
--------shovelling snow off of driveway or
--------walking on sandy seashore or
--------fixing broken toaster
arms made of lead and
don’t move a muscle

lying between dreams and reality
floating between sleep and consciousness to
a painless world of escape and freedom from
constant commotion around you
but then waking up to

the smile of
here and now

Sun

pale blue morning sky
turns the corner of seasons
welcoming spring’s warmth

March Snow

layer upon layer
of different densities
topped with crusty icy dirty shell
covers lawn that wants to
spring sprout forth new life

layer by layer
sun will melt whitenesses
until brown earth and green grass
emerge to colour weary
bleary eyes with
feverish life love

Incision

skirts the navel
on right side
and continues down to pelvic bone

thirteen inches
sliced through fat and muscle

pulled apart
retracted
to obtain access

an entry way
to inner secrets
and sins

what do we hide in our greedy innards?

desires
-------designs
---------------dirty determinations

what is left?

a few inches of tubing gone

and

a stapled scar

Orchid

long green single stem
reaches up
elegant curve
erupting in pale pink explosion
waxy round petals
crown of beauty
the only reason for existence
petals that last for days, weeks, months
valued above all other flowers

sometimes we take love for granted

Cancer

like a graft growing
attaching itself
this evil
bloody mass
in the messy inner
workings of the
body

happily carrying this cross
until
scalpel cuts it away

death of self
and fibrous new
body
new life

On My Back

eyes open to world of beds and white coats
on my back
legs numb
no feeling
world works at breakneck speed
on my back in between waking and sleep
in the slow motion stillness
dormant
waiting for the thaw
waiting for healing
after the cure

Joseph

his coughs rumble from the
depths of his being
his voice whispers need
his body cries out for healing
-----------lungs, back, infections, heart
his anger and frustration creates space
his life on hold for months
he always says thank you

Jen

she’s having her first in July rubbing tummy bump
bouncing on smiling words of every day need patience
pouring out like purple koolaide into plastic
patient cup not a drop spilling but plenty in
reserve for other plastic cups along the way she’s having
her first in July

Highlight

slippers shuffle as I
approach large window at
end of antiseptic hall pushing
IV pole
me
diminished
to
staring out at gray city rooftops
time to go back
to
waiting
bed

Devotion

every day
3 pm
pulls out pastry from purse
handing him home-baked goodness

and
of course
coffee in white plastic mug

sits forward
sad eyes sending sparks

he picks up sweetness
hand trembling
taking bite
this he chews and swallows
no coughs no sneezes

and
of course
sips coffee
almost spilling

she watches
this she can do
in this little room
so unlike home

to make a home

Lieber Vater

You said “Give me the feets!” and then
hoisted us aloft
sure and steady hands
gripping small feet
our faces echoing glee and terror
arms outstretched to waiting socked feet
transporting us to safety

You whispered “Anni” and “Water”
your face a mask of teary sadness
and then
she placed drops of water
into chapped mouth
you settled into long peaceful
sleep until finally transported
into safety

Lieber Vater in the background