In youth we come through our bodies as explorers
Seeking and measuring
Astounded and disappointed
As we grow into ourselves.
In our long midlife, we travel our path
Forgetting and wandering
Sometimes grateful, mostly blindly seeking
The more we yearn for.
Now, our bodies re-astound us
Aching and refusing
Complaining and attacking
Reminding us of time.
… Read more Time
I have a Facebook life that I live differently – I think – than my day-to-day, face-to-face life. I check my Facebook account several times a day, looking first at “Notifications” to see who has been talking to me, and/or what those who I have identified, somehow, as important to me have been posting, and whether I should respond. I almost always “Like” those who have commented on my posts, and I notice how many people have liked or reacted to them, sometimes checking the names.
… Read more Facebook and Me
Down in Union Station in Toronto –
… Read more Red Face – Subway Trains
Monday in the Waiting Room
How hard to be you; how hard to be me.
I walk a path I struggle to see.
You walk a path I cannot share;
You walk a path I do not dare.
I dreamt I wanted to be you,
And fed my anger and my rue.
Now I look and glimpse your heart;
I clasp myself, content to play my part.
How hard to be you,
… Read more Monday in the Waiting Room
The arms merchants recruit the awful hungers
of the power mongers and trim their synapses
Then power mongers hypnotically whisper
to the shamed and lonely ones filled with rigid angers
and find the hungriest to bombast
“the Others are thieves who want
what’s ours. Stop them. Guns!
guns, guns, guns.”
Making ghosts of our children.
… Read more The Arms Merchants
Welcome Lunch in Canada
The Syrian family has arrived in Oakville. They are being supported by the interfaith group , ACT (Abraham’s Children Together) made up of
They, and local supporters, enjoyed a delicious welcoming lunch.
… Read more Syrian Family Here!
Christmas is a time of
difficulties and disappointments,
And other losses.
The dogs of hope
snap at the turkey bits
they’ve been whining for
and drop them, snarling.
Joys are seen
backwards in mirrors:
coloured lights on others’ houses
as I drive away.
And yet …
and yet in the darkness
some small light, hidden,
that I can hold
… Read more Christmas Wrong