Adolf Ens (elegy) 1933-2024

TB 

18 months in Ninette 

and then  everything broke like branches in the woods

from science to faith 

    from facts to love 

        from chemistry to seminary  

thin family man with soft voice 

loved birds and birdsong on a bicycle 

to teach his classes 

thick glasses reading student lives 

in their rapt faces 

sometimes legends 

are left behind 

because of a nudge at Ninette

Rick Braun Janzen (1961-2024) elegy

I didn’t know you anymore 

just those three short years from 15 to 17 

but we shared an age and came of age together 

and I knew that smile and I knew that laugh 

and we sang tenor together in that high school choir 

that became a miracle of permanent memory 

in our 60s 

we walked through the snow 

bundled up from the cold 

until one set of prints finds the cold 

too hard to bear 

and lightens until no trace is left 

upon the clean white covering

Sarah Loewen 1927-2022 (Elegy)

we are driving across 

the curve of the world 

when the news of her last breath 

        comes 

and we are struck by 

tears 

a mother lost 

and I look out at the fields 

stretching out 

and I think 

she was this prairie 

this former grassland 

of wind and sun and soil 

that feeds the world 

and touches teaches all with 

her kindness 

see her smiling eyes 

crinkled with Saskatchewan sun 

as she recalls her many many gardens 

of flowers and food 

and now she will be interred

in this rich ground 

and her spirit will rise like heat waves 

off the summer fallow 

to join her mother 

      and husband 

             and daughter 

                   and grandson

                 and granddaughter 

                               and great-granddaughter 

secure in a good life given on this earth

 

Leith Ross sings Grief (Folk Fest '22 poem #3)

Hannah was 

twenty-two 

someone who loved 

red rose love touching 

so many 

and we sit in the heat 

of her loss 

and her mother’s agony 

while Leith sings 

strawberry sweet voice 

settling on souls 

about 

twenty-two

what is grief at that age 

yet we receive 

this gift as balm 

as soothing cool shade 

as tears roll down

pine tree in the wind (for Bob B.)

snowy ground underneath circled with 

needles     cones detritus 

solid trunk rises sixty feet 

green branches oscilating with 

the gusts of February fanning fists 

but the tree withstands endures

it was made for this with 

roots reaching deep beneath the snow 

into frozen ground 

    into Manitoba clay 

        into the tangle of pedigrees from other trees oh 

to be a pine tree 

needles facing wind with 

sharp confidence

rising from a circle of love

pallbearer

Dear Tim 

    I carried your ashes part of the way to the gravesite 

on a windy fall day 

timeworn trees of Gretna swaying 

you a constant weight 

in my hands 

gripping 

as we all trod together 

the prairie path you loved 

until we stopped under the maple 

welcoming branches 

where your mother and father sat waiting 

and Dave spoke 

and Vic sang 

and Steve read

and we learned about the blanket 

that would enwrap you in the box

inside the velvet bag 

and we said goodbye through tears 

for here you can rest 

for my arms could only carry you 

a short walk 

but now arms everlasting hold you 

all this just to say so long

my friend

Carrol Loewen (1951-2020)

had a way            a style

distinct

inner farm girl

outer urban chic

vivified a room she

entered

hands clapping your presence

with full presence of her being

laughed at

life

whether kind or unkind

for now was now and that was all

painted a life where she

was

broad stylish strokes

in schools with people in places she lived

a canvas full of colour

requiem (elegy for Tim - 1960-2019)

rest now

even with so so much still

left to do

and see

your way

                bass tones chuckling

and fear assaulting

like fire from above

scorching the way ahead with

fierce rage

rest now from tasks well-done

and a life well-loved

even with all the

G. Timothy quirks

and coming up short

and sadness rising

like a flood through floorboards

soaking shoes

rest now

dear friend

for you will shine

bright chords soaring in our hearts

lingering

so rest now

love signs (for Bob)

words of elegy tightly woven

into microphone

remembrance of life lived well

and she’s off to the side

hands and arms speaking

in graceful gesture

sculpting              the         air

to resemble a

man gone too soon

grief for

brief gift of kindness

until he stands revealed

eyes smiling through graying beard

and tears come  

unbidden

blurring sight

seeing signer’s gentle eyes 

perform a benediction

Elegy - Abram Loewen (1922-2017)

it’s taking too long

he says

he’s talking about dying

lying in thin pale gown

nothing left to do

made his peace

said good bye

he’s tired

he’s ready

and yet death does not come easily

like picking stones on a stubborn field

breath follows breath

heart pounds on in caged chest

a determined life

gathering stones along the way

a mother’s coffin

a father’s hard eyes

harsh prairie drought

a war fought in the forest and with a conscience

a girl’s young love

74 year romance

toil at sawmill and in prairie soil

children’s cries and giggles

body betrayal and surgeon’s scalpel and saw

faith forged in doubt and study

until you get a spirit so

tempered

it will not yield easily

but is an iron grip on life and its stony lessons

but then next breath

does

not

come

and he is ushered on

leaving us to marvel at the memory of eye’s twinkle

Elegy for LC

voice that flows

from beneath conscious knowing

into the bones of feeling

and attaches like moss

on the bark of trees

during a rainy spell

and grows like grass

in a concrete crack

pushing apart

bringing grasping life

where there is death

where there is drought  

bringing embracing humanity

where there is only angel or demon

sinner or saint

bringing caressing reconciliation

between body and soul

between earth and heaven

and so we say goodbye and thank-you

Leonard

great mystic halleluiah of our age  

writing it down - Mom

and then it is over

a life of 92 years and two months

a journey breathed through

sun and storm

water and fire

in this room of breaths

eyes open           faintly focused

we gather vigilant intent

on letting ending happen

we the living

letting a part of ourselves

slip away in         these        slowing             breaths

another syringe of freedom into tube

and we touch her hand               shoulder              face

assurance of presence

until it seems it is here

a presence descending

and through tears we begin the songs

half words           half hums

melodies float on the breath of tears

and her face

changes

from tension and labour

to restful submission

we sing until the breathing seems to stop

only a few           last         gasps of struggle

and then we pray her spirit into peace

water and fire

sun and storm

a journey breathed through

a life of 92 years and two months

and then -

elegy - Mom (Anni Ens-1923-2015)

generic  room

white walls         third floor

Concordia hospital and

two dozen roses

pink and yellow

in vases on the windowsill

opening to the sunlight

and this woman

this mother

bruised by life   but undefeated

having won every battle

every fight

with hands of determination

shoulders of patience

tender eyes of beauty

arms of love

high head of courage

quiet solid faith in

                the sheltering wings of God

through tragic loss

fearful famine

world of war

untimely upheaval

mass migration

maze of marriage

house  of children

weary work

bereft widowhood

shrinking old age

this woman

has come to this bed

and this room to defeat death

and live on

in our many        many memories

now open to the sunlight

aufwiedersehn Mama