New Poem: "A View from the Water"

 

 

A View from the Water

 

I got a view from the water the other

day as we cruised the Penetanguishene

and Midland harbors on our neighbor’s

pontoon boat, and my love and I got

to see how the upper side lived, lake

house after lake house, one more

enviable than the other, and without

a twinge of rancor or resentment I smiled

in respectful appreciation of the more

accomplished and successful, spending

their precious few hours and stolen

weekends during our finite summers on

their boats to destress from their business

and profession that allows them to enjoy

the simple pleasures and sweet comforts

of their beautiful lakeside home on

the shores of Georgian Bay.

New poem: "A Disease of the Soul"

 

A Disease of the Soul

 

There’s a very strange disease

in our world today, and no,

it’s not COVID-19, or variants;

it’s a disease of the soul, not

the body, and I don’t know what

to call it. No one does. But once

it catches hold of you, it won’t

let go, and it spreads like a virus

from one person to the other,

tearing the soul apart until there

is no more desire to aspire. Not

everyone catches this strange

disease, and that’s what makes

it so perplexing. There is a cure

for this strange disease, but those

who catch it refuse to own it, and

they beg the government for more,

and more, and more assistance to

ease the woes of this strange

disease that’s entirely

self-infecting.

New poem: "Like Beatrice and Dante"

 

Like Beatrice and Dante

 

It loses something, the supreme meaning

of its mystical seeing, the gnostic truth

of its hidden imperative, if talked about

in the light of day, that special communion,

something like but definitely not the same

(just the opposite) as the love that dare

not speak its name, my easy friendship

with a very proud man who fell so deep

into the pit that he could not find his way

out again, until we met one day in beautiful

Georgian Bay and struck a relationship,

something like Beatrice and Dante,

but definitely not the same.

New poem: "The Person"

 

The Person

 

Shed the symbol, but keep the faith,

the hijab no longer matters

to a changing world;

 

Grow your beard if you want to,

it matters not to God if your

face is bare;

 

It’s the state of grace that defines

the person, not how you look

or what you wear.