born

a benediction of winter flakes

meanders slowly toward earth

and I think of Handel’s chorus

“for unto us”

and singing it with Tourins

and the sweet strings of the symphony

and the soprano melisma

moving in perfect and

gentle rhythm to the effortless

five note cadence

alighting on the e

like snow on a

branch

and all is suspended

for an eternal moment

of divine incarnation

see a mother hold her child

in that wild first moment of recognition

of the ocean depth of love

that echoes to the farthest reaches

of the universe 

longest night

begins around 3:30 pm

this fading

that turns to dark

determined relentless

and on come the millions of little lights

to lighten the leaden dim

and we breathe through it again

this darkest of dark nights

dampened by the fog and mist

that stealthed in from west

like a cat’s paw alighting

tentative and timid

driving the highway home

to wait again for morning light

and promised longer days 

a cat at Christmas

a cat at Christmas knows its place

first outside

then inside

then outside

then curled up by the tree

in the glow of candles and coloured lights

presents opened and unopened

surround

he doesn’t need a gift

carols from the speaker don’t bother him

as he sleeps

his dreams not of sleighs or St. Nick

but when bells ring he wakes and stretches

and moves to his perch on the couch

observing the drama unravel

like yarn that gets caught in our hands and feet

winding around our hearts

in the annual pageant of love

green eyes closing for another

curled-up nap

hoar frost

we drive

we drive highwayroadstreet

to work

to school

to meeting

to shop

to movie

to concert

to church

a means from    to

sometimes

it is the drive though

that makes the trip

when the wonder of the ice crystal

sings a carol on every twig

on every branch

on every tree

new world

white winter miracle

and these bones crack a smile

and want to dance

driven to delight 

begin advent

snow globe newness now

frosty car with windows scraped

slowly powders through

J.

how to write this

love

this all love

so full

so true

so every

with airplane across sky

with combine in a wheat field

with symphony orchestra

with a million messages in the sea

or

most difficult

with deed

kind

thoughtful

consistent

passion red

Keats

when I think of you

it is 1818 and you are ambling

Scottish lochs and crags with Brown

and marvelling at truth you see in

silver waterfalls and

green isles

shimmering in mist

stepping ancient paths

stick in hand

just twenty-two and yet so set

on this journey of yours

to write great verses

to create beauty rivalling

the cliffs of Helm Craig

did you know that this would be your

one

great adventure

two weeks of twenty miles a day

past the homes of Wordsworth and Burns

feet touching timeless

sure set earth

from lowlands to highlands

and your mind gleaning romantic

light

to set down

your young timeless stamp on the  

truth/beauty

of the ages?

11.11.2014

I can see that

our cat

left his

footprints

in the shallow layer of

first snowfall on our deck

small

delicate

careful

and it is poppy day

and I imagine this snow

whitening the trenches in Flanders

like icing sugar

covering the dark horror of the night

and we wonder

now that winter’s blessing

curses us

what further horror awaits us

in this weary world          heavy

with the millions of red and black

plastic poppies stuck into lapels of

privilege

even the snow remembers 

Psalm IX - "Jerusalem"

divine water bathes

small congregation leaning on

padded harmonies

eternal young voices

ecstatic                 glorious

rising and

falling

arcing phrases bending branches

waving in autumn wind

this song a part of the divine soul

rooting

down

into

depths

and now we come up for air

and lean forward

and wait for the next

divine revelation

pouring

sergeant-at-arms

marble pillar standing immovable

supporting commons structure

center of our democracy

and in background

wooden archways and stairs

climbing to halls of power

Vickers strides this hallway

black suit jacket                open

identity tag around neck identifying

sergeant-at-arms

what does that mean     anyway

in this day and age of body guards

and security cameras

face set in duty mode

grey hair

tousled from deadly action          just seconds before

and in right hand

still         warm    gun

gripped tightly pointed

at marble floor

man of deep resolve

a well reaching down to

depths of decency and

now lives with

the constant sensation of that

warm gun

as he passes bullet-grazed pillar

Vaughan Williams

brown wool

three piece

walking through yard leaf-littered

orange and yellow deaths            rustling

I meet him in autumn air

weathered face of sea-worn crags

unsmiling

hand warm and tender in greeting

tells me of his drive along tree-lined roads

wind singing through half-bare branches

bringing to mind ancient songs of the earth

and the birds winging into a cloudy sky

we sit on porch looking out

at world wonder              and

wait       wish for

peace

lovely and leaf-littered

blood moon

awake at six

October morning of frost on shingles

grass blades

darkness teeters with dawn

donning leather jacket and slipping into shoes

unlock front door and brace the coolness

on the front driveway

look west just above

branches

dark leaves holding on for another few days

orange disc hovers

floats

dark patches

one edge already lightening

the dusk of a million sunsets glowing

blood moon

this eclipse week of mixed moods

and muddled thoughts

eclipsing sleep                   and peace           and life

until all is glowing

red with rage

above scratching branches

family photo

foot lifted

perhaps to scratch at a bite

she illuminates with free-from-care

smile

of the youngest

short blond hair result of

preschool friend haircut

mother’s finger extends

like a tether touching     her sleeve

making connection

here

arm draped over pigtailed shoulder

of five-year old                                 squinting into camera

uncertain smile body quarter turned

little shy               wanting to please

mother’s other hand

firm

around boy’s shoulder

he in the middle

of saying something

mouth in half pucker

black cap pushed up on animated head

white hair peeking out

smile of mother

saying

this is me

my life

my lot

and it’s ok

beside father in my

red shirt

bare feet firm on sidewalk

in front of house

windows              green shutters                  white and pink petunias

shouting the HA of here and now

and the face forward

smile of possibility

moments (Chick Corea at the Burt)

strides out and

bows to our happy cheers

and takes an iPhone picture of us

jazz begins

it’s all about time

infinite

and these fleeting moments

of never-againness

solos on grand like

glinty sun in

prairie                   sky

tango for ana

dances the stage

after an hour he slips off

white linen jacket

getting down to business

“we love to play”

smiles and laughs

drum beats out

three     note      portal

and we join in    journey to

forever

time tapped out by feet

under piano

playing cross duples and triples

like Winnipeg streets

wipes hands on white towel

before another

spontaneous                     concerto

moments remembered

in broad outlines by the feelings

that rise like butterflies

wings fluttering in warm breeze

colours blurring in the sun-shaped shadows

a flute floating above

chaotic chords and beats

he is here

now

in the music

and with the people

captured with a quick pic

September summer

sun glances shoulder

see sea of leaf-littered grass

warm weekend reprieve

Paul crawling

a backyard is an acreage

when you are only

one

and the big ball is kicked

to the far end

and you set out

on hands and knees

little legs pumping in opposing rhythm

to small hands

plowing through

prickly                   august                  grass

one goal in mind: GET THAT BALL!

brown eyes focused

oblivious to those

that can walk to the ball

at three times the speed

you just persevere

and finally grasp ball in both pudgy arms

and smoothly manoeuver to sitting position

ball         in            lap

satisfied 

summer (picking raspberries)

profuse red ripeness

hangs on every branch waiting

for careful fingers  

Ubi Caritas - Wedding Poem VII - Gerald and Lisa

she sits

he kneels

basin between

pitcher

white towel

wonder

these elements

he takes bare feet

clear water pouring

gentle caresses

and then the exchange

she kneels in wedding gown

beauty                  grace

takes off black shoes

abundant water

washing

these acts of servanthood

new rings glistening with clear droplets

in the background

Thomas sings

Ubi Caritas

ritual repetition

                charity

                love

                God

and we listen

                broken bread on our tables

these first fruits form foundation

wild hope: Canadian Mennonite Assembly 2014

it’s been raining

a downpour       a deluge

we are powerless to stop it

and we are building boats

folding paper precisely

according to directions

Kirsten guides us

until they are complete and identical

hope on the hull

wild hope

a christening

champagne bottles swinging singing crashing into presence

spraying fragrant wine

everywhere

all touched with unreasonable imaginings

drops of sweet beauty

there is a flood coming

tearing up the banks of a prairie river

and we must board our boats

and ride the wild waves in wild hope

of rediscovery of the truth of love

of finding the chaos and a new order

the storm is coming

wild winds of the hurricane

of the tornado uprooting trees

sending waves that will break the dikes

and we must wake the master

to still the sea and

calm

our fears

holding our boats in cupped hands

and turn the world

strings

we climb across

through

around

hope

grassy steps leading to hilltop

hands stringwrapped with our yellow balloons

some too little to know

some old enough to know all

all tied to single string known as

survivor

now standing together

ready to release our stringbound

hope

love

strength

determination

into the windy sky and

watch as if

it is

us rising

drifting on the breeze

until all we are

is a smudge of yellow in the hazy heaven

and we come back down

to world

of waiting for the

cure

and so it is

and so it is

on each twig a poem

masterpieces of spring

unfurl

in glorious green

some are odes to beauty

some sonnets to time

some are verses symmetrical

some songs to summer

some are elegies to forgotten winter

some ballads singing tale of treedom

in glorious green

unfurl

masterpieces of spring

on each twig a poem

and so it is 

look at the moon

mundane becomes mythic

on drive home

as orange            almost round

moon lifts

over prairie horizon

a spring harvest moon

it appears gigantic

suspended through bare branches

this familiar friendly

body beautiful

slowly merging into dark sky

slowly shrinking and whitening

easing into regular almost full moon

in spring sky

but the size of the moon is an

optical                   illusion

our eyes and minds playing a trick on us

and there are mundane theories

but the mythic settles

sunroom saturday

I think it’s a warbler

that small bird on our yard

google images reveal all

see through glass doors of

this morning sunroom but

it might be something else

pretty black and white                   yellow markings

click like on this real

spring

sun-dappled morning

and me on the inside

looking out at fledgling green

and Coltrane warbles a ballad

and my heart lifts             singing sax spring stylings

and dipping beak into moist

newly-thawed earth for a seed of

something enduring in this

transient moment of marvel

spring lesson

streamers flutter pink

from bright bike on wooded walk

big brother beside

woman at Matisse exhibition

bright pink blouse

and long flowing skirt

standing out

among us blues and greys

in the four-walled gallery of miracles

by Matisse

women and flowers in

riotous colour

encased in

massive

ornate

frames

and I wanted to

take a picture of her

or paint her

or something

but instead I embraced the paintings of

orange and yellow stripes and

flower petals patterning

imperfect beauty of

arms languidly resting behind head and

yellow necklace suspended between breasts and

now she merges with the art

like rain on sidewalk on a

spring evening 

Easter

I step out into

ruffling        cool sun-steeped

morning and

hear lark’s song he is

in the bare poplars hailing me

on this hallelujah day

I step onto

stained-glass-dappled

stage and begin the six-eight dance of

voices young and old hailing miracle

on this hallelujah day

I step into

tomb of terror with

Mary M and see with sun-slanted

eyes the glorious absence hailing world

on this hallelujah day 

Black Friday Transcendence

tiny plastic cups of juice

in silver trays

small squares of bread

in beige baskets

these are passed

down

rows

words muttered

broken                                 shed

as muted hymn

softly sung

gaze locks on wooden cross

standing silent solid solitary

weathered beams

breaking inner barrier

till I see unused cross

within

and begin singing were

you there sometimes

it causes me and then

we eat

pasty white bread

drink

sweet juice

plastic cups tap tapping into

little holder

holes in the pews

engagement pic - Philip & Felicitas

I hear the

clink

of champaign glasses kissing

it jumps out of the screen

joying ear

circling wide world with a smile

both faces alight with love

leaving behind the I

and becoming we

with yellow

pink

red

purple

roses tinting future in

soft brightness

and we all raise our glasses

of totems and Lauren Harris

pointing sky

these carved callings from the past

art of being true and faithful

                    to trees and the raven

                    and the eyes that keep seeing

peeks so bare

elemental white against blue heaven

pull at soul with a vertical uplift

so we fly into sun with Icarus

our winter wax melting

walk outside

where sea meets sand

and sky meets mountain

and touch these weathered poles

now warming in evening sun

silent witness to what we create

and tear down

and build again in this

eternal shore

Rhododendron Way

what's the plural of rhododendron?

                    rhododendri?

don't overthink         it's probably rhododendrons

raindrops magnify bell-like blossoms

a proliferation of spring on

this path of cloudy joy and

                    damp delight dazed colour

                                         red pink blushing white yellow blue

a symphony of abundant beauty

plurality of peace

Blake's guitar

and this is how he plays

string harmonics vibrate in

chordal                 structures

as fingers deliberate

over frets and sound hole

sweater striped and patterned

in warm rhythms

ripple through safe sanctuary

melody meditates and mind anticipates

next notes

exquisite timing all mastered by

young intent face topped with curls

a perfect poem for lent in this

cold

snowy spring

and this is how he prays

boyhood seasons

I recall boyhood winters

swerving corners on best skidoo

mouth vrooming engine

or skating iced streets

sparks flashing from blades

scraping embedded pebbles

I recall boyhood autumns

cool evening dew settling lawn

playing until darkness descends

or shuffling through

leaves like lazy water

on the shore

I recall boyhood summers

sun-freckled days

water-soaked with warmth

with long bike treks on

dust dirt roads

surrounding prairie town

but the spring moments

don’t leap into knowing

I imagine mud a constant

snow mounds shrinking

Easter a yearly yeasty presence

as if I was too busy inside springing brain

to notice the newness

around

me

four degrees at 4 pm

I surf in deep slush

windshields spattered with dirty

drops of warmer days