I’ve become aware I am nobody
If I had any fame, it is lost
If I was milk, I’d be spilt
If I were a rose, I’d be dried.
I am not who I’ve thought I am;
A lone wolf howls in moon’s light,
A whisper shadows unseeing,
A blueprint is missing pages.
I do not walk alone
For I am followed and met by wind,
My heart beats beside me and within,
And my eyes fall on friends I don’t know.
Six steps
Apple tree
Compost on top
I’ve walked twice through this field
The first time was to clear
What had taken hold of my empty thoughts
The second pass was to remind myself
Of each burden I had come to lift,
Of all obstacles I have seen come and then go,
Of muscles and sinue of my body that has once been broken or sore
And now which holds me strong,
Of grasses and trees I have been graced to come to know,
Of each changing season that has changed my soul
Just as one changes their choice in clothes,
And when I returned to the spot I had started from
For I knew where I had come from
I knew I was once again
A changed man never to return
To the same footsteps I had just walked.
Each word only spoke to who I used to be
Hitting me with sadness I hadn’t felt in so long
Memory, an idle passtime we cannot live without
Like each deep line slowly growing across my body
And each sun setting beyond the upper field
Pink and golden and blue as it be
A feather of mine that once flew me
In wind I now see as ghosts
Of who I used to be.
My hands of sawdust
Leaked thin oil of care
A blade beginning to dull
Against wood lacking edge
Thought I could not hold
Escaped my singing lips
Towards this mother wisdom
Inside my wooden chest.
Winds so softly blow against
Open breath of my morning
Definitely Arctic air
Lingering in it’s breadth
Curling around me as if to say
You are home, welcome,
And good morning to you Sir.
For me, it is as an alarm
Awake before I’m called
A sign I am still early
For a fresh day to my face.
Greeting, Sun
Greetings, Rooster
Greetings, fresh grass
Greetings, Wind
I am ready for today.
I silenced my mind
To no prevail
A hope
That did unrail
And awoke myself
To orchard grass
Slowly loosening my veil
Then all at once
A rhythm began
Slowly filling my sail.
You don’t look at me the way you used to
Soft eyes, like you were a bit mystified
By my approach to life
Or maybe it was my life itself
That intrigued you.
You don’t look to me the way you used to
Photographs I remember you in
A bikini I haven’t seen in a long time
And a smile that could drive a mad-man wild
I remember that as we lay.
You don’t need to look the way you used to
We’re milder, softer, settled,
Together comfortably with a purpose
A vision of family and future
That holds us tight as we say goodnight.
You don’t know me the way you used to
Now you hold my hand with intention
Setting rituals of togetherness, wholeness
And connectedness that those photographs
Never held.
You don’t look at me the way you used to
And I love the way you look to me,
Though I don’t remember much about
The young man I used to be,
I know the meaning and purpose of
The man I am to you.
A locus on my mind;
Two dollars and fifty cents
While driving slowly in the right hand lane
Looking for a parking spot
And Grimes on the radio
Flapping wings of technicolour
Written cleanly upon the sidewalk
I am not walking upon.
Heaven yoked my thoughts;
A golden beam of sunshine
Misdirected through bubbling clouds
That cannot share my thoughts
For they speak only in winds
I cannot hear or see
Only feel upon my frowning brow
Searching for and watching
Fleeting moments of sun.
An opening emerges;
Calling with my well-let whistle
I walk alone through a quiet wooded path
Unsure but hoping
For a path to emerge
Amidst low hanging spruce branches
But weakness in my knees
Tell me that I’ve missed my chance
So I must forget the way home
And keep my eyes open wide.