Thursday, January 31, 2013

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

becoming rather than become




some times
she becomes
so very

like so many birds
like so many fish

dispersing
coalescing

cloud and particle

nothing
and everything

pass your hand
through the space
she was

and there is
and then there
isn't

an allness
a wholeness
dissolves into
a nothingness
as if

she is becoming
rather than become

.

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

winter branches



winter branches
reaching across a frozen river

in a few months they'll create shadows
on the water
and shade for the fish and the little animals
passing underneath

Monday, January 28, 2013

what is on their mind?



well it's lovely to see that even though it's cold as a cat's curse, 
the trees are still holding regular meetings on the state of things.

Sunday, January 27, 2013

mid winter



crossing the narrow walkway over the lock in beavermead park here in peterborough. 

the ice has cracked ever so slightly in the middle . . . 

Saturday, January 26, 2013

friday night bike ride

in from a late friday night out . . . twelve forty five on a much warmer night - minus seventeen celsius . . .

here's my bike waiting to come inside . . . . 



the front brakes got kind of frozen up so they were pretty useless!!!



a fun night out and a fun ride home!

Friday, January 25, 2013

managing the cold

it's been a cold week of biking. i haven't missed a day. so temps between minus twenty six and minus thirty four celsius are becoming par for the course. 

strategies to manage the cold and its effects are including coffee, excellent winter ale from granville island off the west coast of british columbia, tasty spicy food and zydeco music from new orleans. . . here's a fun example . . . 




Thursday, January 24, 2013

biking in january



the sound of tires crunching ice crystals and sand.



Wednesday, January 23, 2013

inclinations






there's a place in me 
that is inclined to remember
so much of what i overlook

i find it in the meltwater
of a mid winter river

in the soft echo of a tree shadow

in the footprints of animals needing to drink

sometimes
i call it
my self

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

the thrum of her imagining



in this night
of small lights
and softened faces

i heard eyes
that spoke
and mouths that whispered inwards
holding the place of our affection close -
 clenched fist tight

Monday, January 21, 2013

winter biking



winter biking

scary at times
exhilarating

and beautiful if i ignore the slush
the black ice
the cold

the fear

and afterwards the rush
of making it 
to wherever i am 
safely 
and by my own effort

and then remembering
the beautiful parts

the moments

and of course
the hot bath
and the coffee
to wash out all the rest!!


Sunday, January 20, 2013

[month of] january



[month of] january

it freezes- all across a soundless sky 
the birds go home. the governing dark's begun: 
the steadfast dark that waits not for a sun; 

the undefeated enemy, the chill 
that shall benumb the voiceful earth at last, 
is master of our moment, and has bound 
the viewless wind it-self. There is no sound. 
it freezes. every friendly stream is fast. 
it freezes; and the graven twigs are still. 


excerpted from [month of] january by hilaire belloc

Saturday, January 19, 2013

a single drop of dew



time is engraved on the pale green faces 
of the floating lotus leaves. 
our hearts are a sea, a lake, 
finally a little pond, where 
spider webs interlock over the round leaves, 
and below them our longing 
is only a single drop of dew.

hsiung hung

Friday, January 18, 2013

the shadows . . .






the shadows grow fast on the water.
you can tear them,
but not tear them away.

hsiung hung

Thursday, January 17, 2013

the old story . . .



sometimes, suddenly the old story overcomes us. 
time triumphs then. 
and lets down its hair — 
shadowy black, 
trailing like a willow.

hsiung hung


Wednesday, January 16, 2013

scarves



mist
like white scarves
wrapped around the throat of the pond

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

island (i)




earth, stream and tree encircled by sea 
waves sweep the sand from my island. 
my sunsets fade.
field and glade wait only for rain 
grain after grain love erodes 
my high weathered walls 
which fend off the tide 
cradle the wind to my island.

excerpted from "islands"   king crimson

Monday, January 14, 2013

when in doubt



i do this almost every day

wave


at someone i don't know
and it's amazing
that they wave right back
with a nervous
and sometimes gently curious
and sometimes
 (but more rarely)
a slight edge of thrill to their body language

that we cross the invisible barrier
of know you / know you not
on a regular basis
reminds us all that
we are simply souls
in bodies
with strange and circuitous journeys to make
and that perhaps
we should honour
each other's presence
by the simplest 
and least affecting of means

on a regular basis
just to clear the cobwebs 
and the rusty bits
out of the system

Sunday, January 13, 2013

sunday



on sunday morning 
the bells peal across the frosted rooftops 
losing something of their muffled echoes 
in the scraggled tree branches 

bare metallic and  
blackened 
against the grey winter sky

Saturday, January 12, 2013

still as silence



front of house

a winter morning

everything held
still

as
silence

Friday, January 11, 2013

a little glimpse




a little glimpse of winter
from the window
of my daughter's room

Thursday, January 10, 2013

this bridge between hard places




i race
across the bridge
between the hard places

-

i bet you know
the sense
of relief i feel

as you yourself have likely experienced that same stepping away
from one hard place
and that same looking ahead
to another

that moment of relief as you step away
that is
 entirely filled 
with the voices and colours and sounds and people
of all you might have imagined to that point

and then just as suddenly
felt
the extraordinary
emptiness 
of the great space between 

the unknowing

where there are simply
no referent points

and you stand
posed somewhere between
here and there
and 
otherness

in the great suddenly filled with nothingness
of the space
between what might have been
and what might be

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

simply a song








the sky fell in tiny flakes . . .
uncountable numbers

and when i squinted my eyes
i saw the flakes were like so many threads connecting the sky and the ground

and i imagined this world i lived in as held together
by these slender threads
and that i was but one thread
connecting heaven and earth

and that the wind
played me
like music

and i was simply a song


Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Monday, January 7, 2013

desire gratified




abstinence sows sand all over
the ruddy limbs and flaming hair,
but desire gratified
plants fruits of life and beauty there.

william blake

Sunday, January 6, 2013

a loosened spirit




he ate and
drank the
  precious words –
his spirit grew
robust –
he knew no more
that he was poor;
nor that his
frame was
  dust –
he danced
along the dingy
days
and this bequest
of wings
was but a book –
what liberty
a loosened spirit
  brings –

emily dickinson

Saturday, January 5, 2013

it lingers somehow



there's something of christmas
still available
in the air

the coziness
the warmth
and especially 
the small richnesses of colour

because really
it isn't about a day
as much as it's about a state of being

an acceptance
that goodness
and kindness
are possible
and entirely available

if you are available
to them

Friday, January 4, 2013

i absorb the shining



a single pebble of pure ice
lying on the beach 
captivated me
on a recent walk
alongside the water
it's life
no less transient
than my own
no less significant 
than that of my own


---


my teacher taught me the lesson of poverty,
having nothing and wanting nothing.
   
i absorb the shining and now I see the ocean,
billions of simultaneous motions
  moving in me.

rumi
(excerpted from "i have such a teacher")

Thursday, January 3, 2013

this we have



this we have now
is not imagination.
   
this is not
grief or joy.

not a judging state,
  or an elation,
or sadness.

those come
and go.
   
this is the presence
that doesn’t.

rumi
(excerpted from "this we have now")

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

look what happens!




weak and beautiful
precious sunlight finds its way
to us
even in the middle of winter

-+-

even
after
all this time
the sun never says to the earth,

"you owe
me."

look
what happens
with a love like that,
it lights the
whole
sky.

hafiz

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

the new year's day ice cat



the new year's day ice cat scans the sea for signs of sunlight