Monday, December 31, 2012

new year's eve

the end of a year.

not quite a wall.

a wall
in one way

with windows.

a little high for me

kind of hard to see through

what's coming?
what might be right on the other side of that wall?

i should tell you
i have just had one of the most challenging
and one of the most amazing years
in my life

and as i just got to share with a neighbour

i wake every day entirely thrilled to be alive
 and grateful for the opportunity


so i am entirely

for myself

and each 
of you

that your lives

or some part of your lives
are blessed
with happy making fortune




Sunday, December 30, 2012

post solstice deliveries

a load of coloured light makes its way
towards montreal on the four oh one

Saturday, December 29, 2012

yummy tail lights!

on the way back from toronto
behind six snowploughs

gotta find beauty wherever i am!

Friday, December 28, 2012

this bench

i love going down to the lake . . .

see . . .

there's something of the essence of my dad there . . .

and i have ridden all the way around this lake - eleven hundred kilometres -

and i know that the good dudes in webster who took care of me and my cycling friends two years ago are getting our prayers

Thursday, December 27, 2012


water and air and stone

an early wintersong:

wear me down

wear me


Tuesday, December 25, 2012

christmas day!

early christmas morning 
the light and the colours are dancing 
in glorious remembering 
and glorious creation . . . . 

Monday, December 24, 2012

the day before

christmas eve day! 

Sunday, December 23, 2012

this or that or . . .

in the kindergarten play area - a painted symbol i call - "this, that or the other thing"

go to the yellow line. stop. 
got to the open space and . . . . . . 

so like the rest of their lives

Saturday, December 22, 2012


we form such 
brief impressions

a moment's glance

an overheard phrase

a rumour

a sense

and from that 
tumbles the lasting sensation
that passes for relationship

each impression
echoing the first

and if the echo is muffled
or incongruent
then it is dovetailed
to correspond
with that which has gone before

and this goes on
and on
until one day
the artifice
becomes too much to bear

and no matter 
how much is contained -
no matter how much is hidden

it all comes tumbling out
and down on the floor
in all its emptiness
in all its nothingness

and you find yourself
right there on the floor
with the sorry
of your own creation

and standing up
becomes the most important
and most singular expression
of yourself
and who you really are

and so
here i am

Friday, December 21, 2012

the weather settles in

and then the weather settled in as unsettled weather seems to choose to do.
freezing rain.

combinations of the the three.

the trees were disinterested
having seen this 
all before . . . 

Thursday, December 20, 2012

never mind the weather

thirty above
or ten below

i'm pretty certain
they don't care

they just do their thing

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

becoming more

their tree fingers
in the direction
of the sky
above the trees
on the far shore

i'm drawn to look

and see the blued
grey scale 
of a fog softened

geese fly overhead
their wings
a muffled ullulation

Tuesday, December 18, 2012


“people should not worry as much about what they do but rather about what they are. if they and their ways are good, then their deeds are radiant. if you are righteous, then what you do will also be righteous. we should not think that holiness is based on what we do but rather on what we are, for it is not our works which sanctify us but we who sanctify our works.”

meister eckhart

Monday, December 17, 2012

santa gives me the thumbs up!

i got to spend some quality time
with santa
and i took the opportunity
 to check in as far as
the whole "naughty or nice" business goes 
because really
and truly . . . 
i do live my life -
and sometimes
i bet
on your inclination
or your sense of good or bad
right or wrong)
i might dance somewhat haphazardly
and unpredictably
on either side of that fence

so i was super jazzed
when the hirsute one
slipped me a bag of candies and assured me
that i was a good dude
and in for more of the same
in terms of good times
and treats and happiness!

Sunday, December 16, 2012

christmas lights

i love christmas lights

i love their colours
their unlikely warmth

i especially love
the story they tell of the people
on the other side of the door
of the house
they are lighting up!

Saturday, December 15, 2012

for the better

looking out at the world
while standing on
my front porch
i am filled
with a sense of yearning
to see this world change sufficiently
for the better
in ways that i have 
hoped for

for as long as i can remember

in my own small part
and for my own small part

i have never let up
and perhaps
that is all i can ask 
of myself

i don't believe
that it's appropriate
to ask the same of others

each of us finds our way
to rightness and goodness
(more often it finds us first)
in our own time
and in our own way

and yet
i cannot prevent my heart
expressing its most fervent hope
that no matter
or what you are

that you accept the privilege of life
by bringing
whatever goodness you can
into this world

and in so doing
this world will change
for the better

Friday, December 14, 2012

on the line

on the line

Thursday, December 13, 2012


from the back window

no movement

a slow wash
of orange
to tangerine
to pale pink

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

ahhh my boy

from late summer

clouds playing

this day
my eighteen year old dawson boy's birthday.

12 - 12 - 12
its own
sweet synchronicity

he tumbled into this world
very much himself

and now
he is entirely
and utterly
so much more
very much more the beautiful
he is intended to be

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

the autumn river

the fish and dragons are still and silent, the autumn river cold,
a peaceful life in my homeland always in my thoughts. 

words by du fu excerpted from autumn meditation 4

Monday, December 10, 2012

this temple

i rose with a sense

my senses
told me stories
one after the other

she was
she wasn't

she had slept in my arms
she had slept outside

there was no telling
there were no words

the measured shuffle
of satin slippers on ricepaper

the sudden flutter
of birds

a whispered scent
of cherry blossom

a solemn 
morning sun
colouring the mist

i was entirely
of myself

and in this moment
i was
entirely contained
in everything else

ito yuhan      kiyomizu temple in spring

Sunday, December 9, 2012

tiny changes

the shuttle
of my thinking
the thread of my being
as entirely present
as the quietude
of a late autumn day

"while i'm alive, i'll make tiny changes to earth."

Saturday, December 8, 2012


on my way to school yesterday morning


Friday, December 7, 2012


in the day they pass overhead and you can feel as much as hear the great beating of their wings and their talking to each other wrestles its way through the windows like some strange song being sung from very far away and yet, they are entirely there right above our heads and my class rushes to the window to say goodbye . . .

Thursday, December 6, 2012

four years

four years ago today my dad flew away.

it was as expected as it was unexpected.

my dad was a man who was drawn to the simple pleasures of this world while also being drawn to enrich his spiritual self through his practice as a buddhist 
and a never ending hunger to learn and to know.

my dad over the course of his life shared much of himself with me, particularly his eccentricities, his love of food and drink, his appreciation of good things and then, eventually of good people, and most especially his love of knowledge.

after a tumultuous first half of our lives, i made my peace with my dad and we arrived at a point of mutual care and respect that was characterized by the best hugs i have ever shared with a man. 

i loved him dearly.

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

who we are

i love that each of us is in detail and essence utterly unique. 

the first battle of our lives and sometimes the longest and hardest fought, 
is the battle with the many forces bent on providing us with compelling rationales to deny who we are, 
or who we are intended to be. 

that the strange need for this world to achieve a sort of homogeneity
 precludes the possibility of many to not only retain their uniqueness,
but to achieve the possibilities that that uniqueness might bestow,
is surely the saddest casualty of this battle.

the creation
as i understand it
is a creative unfolding event
of which i am one very small part

my place in the creation
is to honour
the obligation
of my existence

i do so
by waking each and every day
with the intention
of discovering more of my place
and purpose
and celebrating through my work
and wishes and dreams
and most especially my hope

my uniqueness.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

late afternoon

come up for a drink

Monday, December 3, 2012

i'm not the man

i loved this piece of music then and i still feel good sharing it here now . . .

can't beat english r and b bands . . . channeling sam cooke . . . . 

Sunday, December 2, 2012

when the rains fall

a rainy day in december . . .

music today from robert fripp and theo travis . . .

beautiful music created live and very much in the moment . . .

Saturday, December 1, 2012

sky cake

when buildings 
look like cake

expensive cake

i love to see them against the tablecloth 
of a blue sky

Friday, November 30, 2012

my "buddy"

this is my daily ride

since moving into my new home
on the north edge of downtown
(you know . . .  the slightly cool 
almost well to do place called the "teacher's college area")

i've left him outside

mmm hmmmm
i gave my bike a gender

but true . . . 

. . . nope no name!

but i do refer to him as "buddy"
at times when he bails me out of tight spots

"thanks buddy you're so good to me . . ."
when he gets me to places quickly and safely

"thanks buddy for being so understanding . . ."
when he carries insane amounts of food or beer
in the panniers
or huge items for my house
through rain and shine and fog
and now snow

"come on in buddy" when the weather's so crap outside that i understand 
why the chain comes off 'cause the rear derailleur's so gummed up from the dried oil 
and street muck 
and yeah
he's a machine for sure
but somehow he conjures the need in me
to take risks
and to move quickly

he definitely prefers the downtown streets
to the west end streets he used to live on

see for starters
there are other riders on
downtown streets and they've got "colour"

ya know what i mean by "colour?"
some of them are on
slick wheels . . .
hardcore riders who don't repond to my "hello's", my "good morning's", my "hey dude's!"
my "sweet bike brother!"
 but then
who knows what shit their lives are filled with?!

and i say with all my heart and fifty two years of riding under my arse
that when you're on two wheels
tell me
you aren't the luckiest person alive!!!
go ahead
tell me it ain't true!!!

downtown there's more riders who are on rusted squeaking wobbling whips

my faves are the
bikes somehow wrestled together
from the scrap bin on aylmer
and cobbled onto bits
from punked bikes left punched and trammelled
on the side of the road or chained to poles
with more and more bits missing every day
their wheels warped and exploded
like an umbrella in a high wind

those are the most righteous bikes
always ridden by guys who don't wear helmets, goretex gloves,
or jackets striped with reflective tape and pants shipped purolator from portland
"the hub of the bike universe"
nope those dudes are wearing third hand mark's work wearhouse pants
and maybe a carhart jacket that somehow slipped through
the value village filter  
and boots . . . 
always steel toed boots with no laces

and when i pass those dudes i nod a slight nod and they always
nod a slight nod right back.
no smile
no words
just the connection
that sweet so very real moment
when we say without saying anything
"we're hurtin' in our own ways -
it's tough being human isn't it?!"

but both of us
are free
for this brief time being
while we ride our bikes
through the streets

and our nods are like tickets
granting us safe passage to the next way-station
to the next set of lights
to the next coffee or drink
to the next car that somehow doesn't see us
or somehow fails to anticipate a choice 
we have no choice but to make
and when we arrive
at the doors to our homes
and switch on the light and leave
our bikes
i know 
that at that very moment
the very last glimmer of energy from those nods
drifts off into the night
and i can say
in all honesty and with affection
"thanks buddy"
to my bike sitting out on the porch

Thursday, November 29, 2012


time passes and music settles deeper and deeper . . .

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

in the night

late in the night
the popping and banging and creaking
of this old house
remind me of my own gently aging bodies'
each day 

and so i get up and touch its walls 
and run my hands along its 
framed doorways and railings
reassuring it
and drawing it closer
before returning
to my own bed
filled with the soft light
the three a.m. streetlamps

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

everything revealed

like fenceposts
drowned in the water
pointing inwards

"everything revealed is magical,
splendid in its ordinary shining."

Monday, November 26, 2012

it happens all the time in heaven

it happens all the time in heaven,
and some day
it will begin to happen
again on earth -
that men and women who are married,
and men and men who are
and women and women
who give each other
often will get down on their knees
and while so tenderly
holding their lover's hand,
with tears in their eyes,
will sincerely speak, saying,
"my dear,
how can I be more loving to you;
how can I be more


Sunday, November 25, 2012

don't surrender

don't surrender your loneliness so quickly

let it cut more deep.

let it ferment and season you

as few human or even divine ingredients can

something missing in my heart tonight

has made my eyes so soft

my voice so tender

my need of God

absolutely clear.


Saturday, November 24, 2012

the bridge

and forever and forever,
   as long as the river flows,
as long as the heart has passions,
   as long as life has woes;   

the moon and its broken reflection
   and its shadows shall appear,
as the symbol of love in heaven,
   and its wavering image here.

excerpted from "the bridge" by henry wadsworth longfellow

Friday, November 23, 2012

ripe depths

i've dreamt of rivers
thick with time


only shadows stir in their ripe depths

Thursday, November 22, 2012


it's lovely to wake to a world of fog and tangerine lights and softened trees and the gentle dripping of captured droplets coalescing into single drops then returning to the earth eventually . . . .

i ran out of storage space on picasa today and so in order to continue illustrating this blog i'll need to purchase more space. that may / likely will happen later today . . . .

for now then . . .

“wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving.” - kahlil gibran

kahlil was a good dude . . .  thanks for the reminder brother!

Wednesday, November 21, 2012


exultation is the going
of an inland soul to sea,—
past the houses, past the headlands,
into deep eternity!

emily dickinson

Tuesday, November 20, 2012


a man's ignorance sometimes is not only useful, but beautiful--while his knowledge, so called, is oftentimes worse than useless, besides being ugly. which is the best man to deal with--he who knows nothing about a subject, and, what is extremely rare, knows that he knows nothing, or he who really knows something about it, but thinks that he knows all?

Monday, November 19, 2012

my vicinity

"my vicinity affords many good walks; and though for so many years i have walked almost every day, and sometimes for several days together, i have not yet exhausted them. an absolutely new prospect is a great happiness, and i can still get this any afternoon. two or three hours' walking will carry me to as strange a country as i expect ever to see."

Sunday, November 18, 2012

straight to the heart

a mid afternoon walk through an older part of town
opens my eyes
to treasures
that have seen 
and know much

even sidewalks

and then of course
the younger
proudly showing off

bright red
sweet to the eyes

straight to the heart!

Saturday, November 17, 2012

without condition

i saw this leaf . . . still pale red
with hints of tangerine about its fringes
lying still
nestled in the fingers and arms
and throats and eyes and arms and hearts
of a hedge
that had somehow taken 
this leaf  . . . still pale red
with hints of tangerine about its fringes
their welcoming
fingers and arms
and throats and eyes and arms and hearts
without condition

Friday, November 16, 2012

oh the stories . . .

i wondered at the stories that could have run
the length of the ropes 
attached to the boats
carrying the people
who stopped at this lone mooring


they had been given the chance

Thursday, November 15, 2012


Already in front of the islet, the rushes and reed flowers shine!

du fu

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

i have spread my dreams

he wishes for the cloths of heaven

had i the heavens' embroidered cloths,
enwrought with golden and silver light,
the blue and the dim and the dark cloths
of night and light and the half-light,
i would spread the cloths under your feet:
but i, being poor, have only my dreams;
i have spread my dreams under your feet;
tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

w.b. yeats

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

november 13

i'll be here to welcome you back!

Monday, November 12, 2012


on river road coming back from lakefield 
these reeds
reaching up reaching out
reaching in

Sunday, November 11, 2012


this is the treacherous month when autumn days
with summer's voice come bearing summer's gifts.
beguiled, the pale down-trodden aster lifts
her head and blooms again. the soft, warm haze
makes moist once more the sere and dusty ways,
and, creeping through where dead leaves lie in drifts,
the violet returns.

excerpted from "november" by helen jackson

Saturday, November 10, 2012

waiting to fall

my eyes
fell through
this leaf crested archway

i rested
in the branches

held like summer
dry and spent
waiting to fall

Friday, November 9, 2012

half moon run

lovely music! 

i ask for more and accept much less 

with genuine gratitude!

because less . . .

is more

than i could imagine -

Thursday, November 8, 2012


this little moment in a river reflecting an early november sky . . . trees newly bare of their summer clothing . . .

on one of my rides around the east side of the river . . a new route for me . . .

and one of the last images from my old camera which has gradually been giving up its spirit . . .

thankyou little camera . . .

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

the hunt

after hurricane sandy sent long howling whistling fingers of rain through the trees it has become even more difficult to find the last vestiges of colour still clinging to their sugared summery memories and so imagine my joy when i found one slender tree holding ever so tightly to her leaves!!!!!