Peace Candle

it was the second Sunday of advent

he tried mightily

he held the flame to the wick
but it wouldn’t take

he tilted the candle
but no new fire emerged

he held the candle horizontally
but just wax melted

he melted more wax and it seemed to work
but then the small flame died

he tried again and everyone held their breath
but the light went out again

he gave up and lit a different candle
and then made a joke

nervous laughter

sometimes symbolism hurts

Creation

darkness

chaos

let there be light
and there was LIGHT
major chord ringing

singers creating Haydn creating God creating universe

induced labour
two girls being birthed
lighting Saskatoon hospital room

hearts beating with new blood new joy new life

fingertips depress keys
letters appear on blank screen
words lines take shape meaning
poem develops from black

blinking

cursor

Christmas

flakes fly freely fall
crystal white winter wonder
peacefully descends

Wednesday Nights

sometimes you come out of the hack leg pushing
slide through rings and let the rock glide upon
a thin layer of water
in a perfect curve to its resting place
where you wanted to end up

sometimes the push-off is unsteady
and you need to lean heavily
on the rock as you regain
balance
losing valuable momentum and
messing with your aim
and the polished granite
misses its mark

sometimes it is time for a shake-up
and you swing stone back
and push with force
letting go early to create more momentum
the shot staying straight and true
until there is contact and a new outlook

sometimes the plan is wrong
and even though your aim is
perfect
the result is poor

sometimes the shot is so delicate
like an arctic flower
yellow and white
that one twitch will
cause wreckage

and sometimes the sliding stone
will pick up a hair or lint and
not even make it to the other
side twirling uncontrollably to
the side boards

but always there are the sentries who travel beside
ready to influence the speed and trajectory
with the hopeful sweep

Toffifee

last taste of chocolate
-------------melts on our tongues
standing back
admire finished product
glittering glorious

------box is opened and we begin
------round morsels of caramel and
--------------dark heaven
------fill our mouths
------each bite savoured

------tree stands waiting
------lights’ random radiance
------each item has meaning

------glass angel from grandma
------wooden skier from Helen
------fish hook
------pictures
------student gifts
------all find their place in the plastic branches

------the hazelnut in the center
------waits for the appreciative crunch

lights are low and the small white glowings
create space for our lives
our memories
melting
lingering

Insomnia

…counting to one hundred two hundred
lying in a bed of thought hammering
hammering the brain lifting me out of
warmth into bare feet on carpet
stepping out of darkness into grey
light of night time life
thoughts do not follow
mind blank bursting with empty
balloons of fatigue sitting in front
of single solitary screen of virtual cards
carrying one pile to another chin in hand
eyes stinging with poisonous night air
until the descent into hammering thought and
counting…counting…

Lunch With Stephen Harper

I dreamed I had lunch with Stephen Harper

He had a steak sandwich (well done) and a glass of red wine
I had a reuben and a beer (dark)

He smiled at me and asked if I had any questions.

I asked him to do something about greenhouse gas emissions
He said no

I asked him to do something about child poverty
He said no

I asked him to allocate more of the budget to foreign aid
He said no

I asked him to spend more on the CBC
He said no

I asked him to stop giving tax breaks to the rich
He said no

I asked him to stop using attack ads
He said no

I asked him to consult more widely about government policy
He said no

I asked him to rethink our policy in Afghanistan
He said no

I asked him to resign
He said OK

Too bad it was only a dream