winter pulls away

winter pulls away

reluctantly

leaving streams

that burble

the promise

"i will return"

the eternal dreamer

for the next two days

i am living on the thirtieth floor

of a hotel in downtown toronto

it's to do with

my work

my role

~

my days

are circumscribed by time

it's how things get done

it's how things get measured

and yet i know myself

well-enough

to know

that i exist

outside of time

so i make a point

of finding

the timeless

and making it my acquaintance

for i love

the timeless

in whatever form it takes

we hear him and take him among us like a wind of music,

like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;

we crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,

we pour in a sinister mass, we ascend a stair,

with laughter and cry, with word upon murmured word,

we flow, we descend, we turn. . . . and the eternal dreamer

moves on among us like light, like evening air . . .

all words conrad aiken from the house of dust

the grace

surely

as unsurely

as i move

through

this moment

(hanging

securely

perhaps

by a thread)

i will

become more

of what

i am meant to be

and in the becoming

granted the grace

to let me tell the tale

of why

a factory window at night

a night time walk

past an old factory window

the only light on a darkened street

across the road

a cemetery

an almost complete

silence

in the sky

a full moon

round and white

peers from behind

scudding clouds

there is no one around

to think it odd

as i sit on the curb

just my self -

seeing

this window

i've looked out

through

windows just like this

and now

i am older

i can look in

and treasure

its dusty orange glow

so much of my life

unfolding

in the enfolding

of a march night

the bottled glow

one of the beauties of being a teacher

is that you get to sew seeds.

i have an idea

about the kind of future i wish for my kids

so

i took my class

to a straw bale house

that incorporates active and passive solar systems,

grey water processing

geothermal heating,

walls made from straw bales

and adobe.

walls made from shredded denim and adobe.

and the people who work there showed

how it can all be put together

into a real working building.

but honestly,

i was really drawn to a wall

made of cans and bottles

and mud.

it was truly beautiful.

especially because the light

was drifting through

green

and blue glass

even the clear glass put on a show

and what was especially exciting

was that i was able to say truly

to my kid's faces

that this is now -

it's real.

it's here.

it's entirely possible

and it doesn't cost more than a regular

old-fashioned building.

like the one i call home.

we're hoping to be asked back

to help plant the butterfly garden in the spring.

it'll match the one we have planned to dig in to the natural habitat at our own school.

frost halo

in the morning

a frost halo

let that fragile gift

slide

ever so gently

onto the finger

of your imagining

little wonders

wood

moss

lichen

stone

wonder -- is not precisely knowing

and not precisely knowing not --

a beautiful but bleak condition

he has not lived who has not felt --

emily dickinson

getting my feet wet

it's funny

but when i

get my feet wet

they dry out

eventually

i know that

but i do all

that i can

to avoid

getting my feet wet

apparently

and not

surprisingly

i'm not alone

a chance

spring snow

traces a loving line

through the woods

across the river

takes complex routes

along the shoreline

and comes

to a rest

a chance to breathe

and listen

and see

an early spring snow

an early spring snow!

strange to think

that i've been waiting all winter

for its soft white kiss

an early morning

gift

a walk down a little stream

allows me to reflect

on reflections

to see the light-rippled

dance

of water

free to flow

and to be grateful

for so much

spring in my step

a cold day

that began with snow

but

walking

through the woods

i can feel the earth

wriggling out

from under the weight

of its winter memories.

~

tracks of rain and light linger in

the spongy greens of a nature whose

trees vanish--reappear--vanish:

but--stirred, the eye seizes

for the first time--the eye awake!--

anything, a dirt bank with green stars

of scrawny weed flattened upon it under

a weight of air

words excerpted from william carlos williams "romance moderne"

deliquescence (ii)

in its ripples and whorls

a necklace of mirrors

look

beyond

their polished surface

and you will see

all the givens

and negotiables

the myriad allusions

to the transitory

each drop of water

in its deliquescent dance

a timeworn

signpost

to impermanence

what is

is not

what is beginning

is ending

it is here

it is gone

all in one moment

of being

now

(for dan gurney)

drawing the line

the sun

draws the line

between winter and spring

the line is fine

and sometimes

detailed

sometimes it is subtle

like a flare of morning sun

threaded through

a frozen rivulet of ice

and sometimes it

fills the skies

with departing

winter wings

stones singing

a poet hears stones

singing water music while

stones hear his heart sing

dan gurney

late winter wind

crow tales

are being sung

~

the wind is dancing

with

silver-blue ribbons

clenched in its teeth

i can hear its

cold fingers

sliding across

the walls

searching

for an opening

a door not entirely closed

a window left slightly open

a place to enter

and wrap itself around

the honey-coloured

flame tongue

of warmth

that swirls

in soft arabesques

around me

lisa o piu

the keen-eyed among you might have noticed a link to the music of lisa o piu on my sidebar.

the brave among you might have clicked on that link and gone to her myspace page.

the daring might even have clicked on the player on her myspace page when you landed there.

my mate sid (who you also likely know by face and perhaps by music as his mug also graces the sidebar with links to his outstanding series of podcasts) turned my ears towards lisa's work

with a glowing review of her new album which you can read right here.

but really, the music tells its own story and so here's the gift of a beautiful tale.

river life

the city i live in is bisected by a beautiful river.

i cross it two times every day.

the otonabee was once a wild river that the first nations used to travel through this region.

later, it drew the early settlers to its side because it provided not only the necessary liquids around which all life inevitably gathers, but also because it provided a source of energy.

energy to drive grainmills and woodmills.

many cities began their lives this way.

it is now a tamed river. being a source of hydroelectricity for the city, there are dams to help divert water into the small plants that create power. passing through several small towns and my city, it also provides us with our drinking water, and being one element of a waterway for boaters travelling from lake ontario to the south to lake huron in the north there is a lock system to ensure safe passage for lovely little boats.

happily

it has retained much of its beauty.

as these appreciative residents will tell you.

margaret

today

is (my aunt)

margaret's birthday

she is not one

to sing her own praises

likewise

she is not one

to encourage others

to sing her praises

and yet

among the many legacies of her living

i know that

so much of what and who i am

comes from gifts

tangible

and otherwise

that margaret

has shared with me

a copy

of hermann hesse's

siddhartha

and a trip

to europe

at a tender

and critical age

opened worlds

that flowered from that point

worlds!

my most treasured worlds!

worlds that became

my passion for writing

for art

for music

for thinking

for being

for doing

her greatest gift

for me

though

has been the quality with which

she lives her life

so thankyou!

happy birthday margaret!!!

time to return to water

last night's walk home

was cheerier than usual

~

as of this morning

or last night

depending on your perspective

it's march break!

the sun is higher in the sky -

so are the temperatures

for each day

of the march break

the temperature will be above zero

the ice on the river is breaking up

time to return

to what the trees

the flowers

the rabbits

the bugs

all living

or to become living

things require

time to return to water

time to become more fluid