Poem for the week: "Visions of a Larger Reality"

 

Visions of a Larger Reality

 Who are we, poets and writers

of a larger reality? Who are we, who

span the ages with thoughts no-one

dares to express? Who risk the cruelties

of life with every word we write? But

we write despite our fears. Why does

the world fear our visions of a larger

reality? We had Ursula K. Le Guin,

SF writer and non-believer; but where

is she now? Where did she go, this

student of the Tao whose fearless vision

of a larger reality made the two into

one in The Left Hand of Darkness that

mirrored society’s LGBTQ fears? Did

Le Guin sink into oblivion, as she feared

when still living? Then how could she

visit her beloved son in the larger reality

of his dreams? And was she trailing clouds

of glory, too? Did the visionary poet’s

God, “who is our home,” reclaim

the revenant’s soul?

Poem for the week: "The Monkey Mind"

 

The Monkey Mind

 I saw the change in her

as she worked on her jigsaw

puzzle of the new suspension

bridge spanning the Nipigon

River in our old hometown,

quietly stealing down in the

middle of the night to the

sunroom with the cozy fire

still burning, giving her sweet

satisfaction with each new

piece that fit into her puzzle;

and I was delighted with the

change I saw in her, the same

effect that meditation has on

those who practice TM to calm

the monkey mind and soothe

the weary soul.

Poem for the week: "No Mean Thing"

 

No Mean Thing

 One of the surprising joys of my life

today is experiencing the life of others

in their easy accomplishments, a simple  

thing that seems so small but is grander

than we think—Matt Damon on the Graham

Norton Show talking about the fight scene

in his new Jason Bourne movie; Ayad

Akhtar explaining the creative process for

his new novel Homeland Elegies; Matthew

McConaughey’s uncompromising memoir

greenlighting his way to Hollywood stardom

with Texan chutzpa and willful intention;

and my retired foraging neighbor repairing

discarded snow blowers, lawn mowers,

vacuum cleaners, and other throwaways

to pass the time of day—because it takes a

lifetime to get to where we are, and easy

accomplishments are no mean thing.

Poem for the New Year: "2021"

 

2021

 Another year of Covid-19,

scourging the world with panic

and fear, everyone consigned

to their safe bubble desperately

waiting for the salvific vaccine

that will open society to a new

normal; and as we wait for this

to happen, reflections became

my daily habit, and I pondered

long and hard, wondering why

it takes so long to put the pieces

of life together, like the jig saw

puzzle of the new Nipigon River

suspension bridge that my love

is patiently assembling; and as

the new suspension bridge spans

the north and south sides of the

Nipigon River (an old aborigine

friend long dead told me Nipigon

was Ojibwe for fast-flowing water),

my old hometown-life of relentless

questing for an answer to life’s

imponderable question (why?)

forged a suspension bridge from

Nipigon to Tiny Beaches on the

sandy shores of beautiful Georgian

Bay, Ontario where all the pieces

of life finally fell into place for

me as I reflected from the safety

of our Covid-19 bubble.