We have been taught by society to hide our dark spaces and places
In some cases we have hidden them for so long and so well
We forget we own them

**I suspect however, that our shadows never forget they own us

Would Be suitors, you sing to me having migrated to your breeding pond
All the night long you court me with your lively mating song

As I lie in my bed eavesdropping on you troubadours of princely green
I marvel and delight at the thought, that I may have been chosen your beloved Queen

I imagine you...watchful, eager with handsome green bodies adorned with bronze and brown
Banjos with loose strings strapped to your bodies tightly, as you hop around

Yellow throats bursting open with hopeful songs of praise
For all eligible green ladies with lovely long green legs

Long may you live and may your homes be filled with throngs
Of charming little boys like you, who fill our lives with song

I have to say that I love life
I love walking outside and drinking in the seasons
Smelling the scents indigenous to our island
Even with my eyes closed I can know I'm home

Catching up with friendly faces
All of nature mixing and mingling
A cacophony of natural rhythms
That dance off  breath and pound from chests

The sound of  each snowy step taken reminds
That there is hope for tomorrow
That there is hope for today
That there is hope for yesterday

Purpose filled living that grows deeper and stronger
Grabbing life by the hips and drinking thirstily from her mouth
Striding wholly into the stratum of a living, feeling, breathing being
Thrusting into the wonder that is yesterday, today and tomorrow

I have to say that I love life

Love can bring you pleasure
Love can bring you pain
A delicate balance of loss and gain
It can lift you up
It can knock you down
Make you feel so smart
Let you know you're a clown

Love, the sweet vexations of love
Love, the revelations of love

I thought he really loved me
I thought I was his world
Turns out I was just another girl
One of many
He had strung out on his line
Boys don't cha know
That was a kick in my behind

Love, the desecration of love
Love, the revelations of love

Just another girl
What a slap in my face
I'm on a mission now to erase
Every single trace
Of that man
Would you like to help me
Formulate a plan

*Love, oh the frustrations of love
Love, oh the complications of love
Love, the revelations of love

Walking Down
Richard’s Road
A salty breeze
Welcomes him home
The lost returns
A child again
A bare footed heart and Soul

Pretty Roadside flowers
Your tiny heads bent in
Evening Prayer
Kindly remember our names
As your fragrant blessings fill the air

Setting sun’s
Rosy glow
Pouring through
Weathered Birch trees
Rose Coloured light
Flickers through
Warming leaves and his  memories

Pretty Roadside flowers
Your tiny heads bent in
Evening Prayer
Kindly remember our names
As your fragrant blessings fill the air

Evening Falls
Soft and cool
Taking his hand
They walk once more
Down over cliffs
Red and high
Yes they walk once more
Down to Richard’s Shore

*Pretty Roadside flowers
Your tiny heads bent in
Evening Prayer
Kindly remember our names
As your fragrant blessings fill the air

Why do you continue to sleep this night?
Like so many others, refusing to awaken
I am losing patience with your lack of knowing
With your avoidance to feel

Hear me ... Come to me

Come back to the fore mother's womb
Know your place of origin
It is time for you to be born again of blood and lust
Time to drink deep and be nourished by Ancestral *******

I come to you in the quietness of the night
I come to you with arms that ache to hold you
With a tongue that burns to share with you
All that has been denied you for too long


What is happening to me?

I did as I was told. I followed the formula.

Studied well. Worked hard. Fell in love..
.
Why was it all taken from me? What is left for me?


Doing and not “Being” leaves no time for the sacred
You wonder why the emptiness grows inside you?
Let me love you into growing and into knowing
The truth of the fullness of a woman

Time to leave your antiseptic cocoon
Time to touch, to burn, to feel
Time to leave the shackles of other's man made rules
And dare to create your own from having lived

So many fear the dark.
But water and fire gather in the dark places below.
The brave and bold have learned to go there eagerly
They run with pulses racing.
Their bodies flushed, warm, alive.

Hear me ... Come to me

Tonight we shall meet and touch
It is our intention to reclaim all that has been lost to us
It is our intention to give to you, all that has been denied
Dare to free your body.
Dare to open your soul.
Feel.

Hear me ... Come to me

Let me dig deep into your soul
Become one with your Ivory bones
Know the harmony of your blood's song
Find the place where I belong

Let my footsteps echo within your mind
Journey with me through space and time
Let me turn you inside out
Breathe the Breath from your sweet mouth

A pulse stilled...now throbs and rushes
A tongue denied...salivates
A covert glance...seeks to be engaged
Flesh and mind flooded with new yearning...are hungry
Woman of the heart, Let thunder roll
Dig in your earthiness,
Follow your roots to your flesh
And find us dancing in your blood

You don't have to tiptoe around your heart
Dig in. Know it. Own it.
Trust the knowing will bless your lips and your hips
And set your world on fire!

Shadows don't come knocking

They just come right through the door
Caution! Prudence! They don't like to be ignored.

And if you turn your back upon their brazen stare
They'll overturn your table and every blessed chair

They'll open every window, every door, in every room
They'll hide your dust pan far away from your broom

Then what will you do with all of that mess
Left lying on your floor to be viewed by your guests

Shadows don't care if they are inconvenient

They salt sugar bowls and they'll spill juice
There's no keeping order with shadows on the loose

They don't care if company's coming and they're not ruled by time
And they don't give a tinker's dam for any deadline

And they'll rant and they'll rave through the night and all day
They're a part of the whole, and they will have their say

So you may as well resign yourself and make a *** of tea
For those will be long nights for Shadow, God and Thee

Last night as I lay in my bed, just outside my house
I heard the familiar patter of her footsteps
As they mingled with the rustling crimson and golden  "fallen of  just yesterday"

I leave my window open, waiting
To breathe in her delicious scent, that heavenly bouquet of
Upturned earth and crisp cool air that's been kissed by Gulf of St. Lawrence

Oooh, she's arrived

Her full hips, gracing Horns of Plenty, sway as she shimmies and struts about our island
Gathering firewood for Samhain and climbing the birch, the poplar, the maple
Adorning their leaves with Byzantine colours, cinnamon and mustard

Oooh, she's arrived


And as Islanders dream of abundance, she slips in through cracks and crannies
To sample pickles and jams
And to bless every farmer and their harvest as they sleep

Oooh, she's arrived and she calls to us to celebrate, to lift up, and give thanks!

When she entered his room she found him seated on the edge of his bed with the curtains drawn. The room was dark, gloomy and smelled of tired air and night sweats. "A no sunlight zone in here today or can I open a window?" she asked gently.

"Do as you please" came from a throat constantly hoarse from years of misusing alcohol, cigarettes and another night of yelling in his sleep.

She moved quickly across the room, pulled back the curtains and opened the window before he had a chance to change his mind. "Why do you say that?" she asked taking a moment to inhale the fresh June air. Lungs full, she turned and seated herself beside him. "It's such a beautiful day. Won't you come and sit by the window, if only for a few minutes?"

"Why? What difference do you think it'll make?"  he raised the pointer finger of his left hand to his temple and tapped. "There are times when the darkness is in here, there isn't any light, not behind curtains, not at the end of some ******* tunnel ..."  his voice trailed off  "... not anywhere."

A softly knitted "Oh, I see," slipped from her lips and trailed off upon a welcomed breeze that had entered through the open window. It waltzed around the room gathering as it swirled, carrying off their words, adding them to bits of red dust and scents of ocean, barbeque, and freshly mowed grass.  She loved the intrusion, the smells of the warm world just beyond these walls reminded her of the importance and value of small joys.

"I think I   should make you   a  paper moon," she spoke thoughtfully as though her idea were being pieced together as her words formed.  "Yes,   a paper moon,    one with a little red paper heart inside ... small enough to fit in your wallet   and on days when," he watched her struggle for the right words "... it's dark,   you'll have a backup  supply of light and love   right in your own back pocket."

"My God she's odd." he thought and said so. But it didn't seem to bother her in the slightest.  She just laughed and smiled then leaned in and added in a conspiratorial whisper "But I'm the very best sort of odd ..."

"Oh?" he asked with his first, almost smile of the day. "There are various sorts of odd?"

"Absolutely!"

"But you're the very best sort?"

"Absolutely!"

"And exactly what sort are you?"

"The harmless and crafty sort. Did I tell you?" She looked over her shoulders and then leaned in and whispered, "I can make the most wonderful paper moons?"

He turned his head away and facing the wall, he asked "Why are you so kind to me?"

"I have kindness in me to give and I believe you need it. So makes sense to give it, doesn't it?"

"There's lots of folks in this place needing kindness. Don't let me keep you."

She stood up, crossed to the door, turned and smiled, "Okay. Shall I come to see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah ... Why not?"

As she walked out into the hallway he called after her "Hey! Odd Duck, if you're feeling crafty tonight ... I'll take one of those paper moons of yours."

They unite!

The swish swish sound of snowpants as sure thighs stride
The crunch of wet snow under boots
The disobedient strands of hair escaped  from her mother's tightly braided handiwork
Whipping about according to the wind's will
Runny nose, watering blue eyes, and cheeks reddened to a rosy apple glow by winter's puppy dog nip

Intent on a snowfort and snow angel mission
With no break taken except to quench a thirst once in a while
Eyes close and mittens lift the glorious white mannah
Tongue and mouth delight in the taste of winter that the snow carries deep within her hold
Could any wonder be more beautiful than the bliss of an eight year old on a storm day?

The words were not there
But something was stirring deep within
Insanity or brilliance, perhaps both
Understanding the fullness of its urgency has never come

I put pen to paper and wrote anyhow

I wrote what I saw within
Heaven and Earth
Unlaced and dancing
Beating upon internal drums ... I could barely hear

I put pen to paper and wrote anyhow

And though I am sure of very little
I am certain of one thing
That you and I, are pieces of all of this
This primal dance of Heaven and Earth

*So I put my pen to paper and I write anyhow

Can you feel the liveliness of words as they form in your head and slip off your tongue
Each syllable pulsating, merging and finding its rhythm

Alive ...

Taking root, nourishing the mind with the palatable, digestible and the succulent
Riding the winds to the four corners and back

Gathering and giving
Gathering and taking

Alive ...

Igniting notions and philosophies, fancies and yearnings
Drenching, pulling you under and steeping you in your own thoughts

Alive ...

Let us think about the caring we receive
Each tender moment, small and large
From family and friends and even strangers

Kindnesses are no small thing
They touch our days with grace and joy
They refresh our hearts and souls as water does our flesh

May I always come to the wellspring of your kindness
Each tender moment, small and large
With head bowed in reverence for the beauty of what you share

It occurs to me that often our struggles are with Fortresses we've built

Every vow and promise we've spoken
Each, acted as a sturdy wooden beam

Blessed by our passion and determination, they fastened together

Shielding and protecting those that we most cherished
And thus created a safe haven for many tomorrows

**Is it any wonder then that attempts at deconstruction are often so difficult?

Their disapproving stares could not tame
Nor their prayers quench the fire in her veins

This tempestuous primal bloom with skin that smelled of lavender and tasted like the sea
Had a thorny sting as sharp as the arrogant wasp

"The loss! The loss!" they warned as they tugged and pulled on the hem of her skirt
But she kept walking, staying one step ahead of the fullness of their grasp and her own wind blown shadow

They responded,  "Go then! You are in God's hands now!"
Their words stopped her and she turned to face them, "Indeed and I go gladly. Perhaps you'd care to join me?"

There's a stirring when old ways start to whisper
Almost without a hint of knowing

Despite very good intentions
Despite diligence

When the whispers start ...

... Do we listen?
Or do we explain it away?

"Probably just a creak in an old joint settling ... just one of those noises old vessels make in the midst of the darkest hours...it's nothing."  a voice will often offer up in the hope of silencing vigilant angels.

After all we're all big boys and girls. We can do this on our own.

*Right?

There is beauty to be found when we take time to sift through the ruins

But it takes courage to handle broken shards of what once was

And it takes willingness to feel the pain

Shed the tears

Howl at the moon

No precious stones or metals here

Just clay, breath, blood and bone

We must become our own alchemists

Heat our own precious life

With the fires of passion and desire for our own sake

For what good are we to the world

If we are no good to ourselves

New Lovers are interesting creatures
Primping our feathers and polishing tongues
So that rehearsed stories slip out with ease

Ahhhhhh...these resplendent but dangerous times

The preening and waxing of word, as the hands of the clock move
Become less playful lures and more so ... expectant promises
That can resemble and feel like chain link


Ahhhhh...these resplendent but dangerous times


Oh but the temptation to throw caution to the wind is too strong
We tear off our clothes and dive into love's depths
And we forget our mother's caution "Still Waters Run Deep!"

*Ahhhhh...these resplendent but dangerous times

Tell me...

Before you close your eyes
Tell me of today's miracles
Did you part the Red Sea
Still the sun and the moon
Bring back to life what was dead and gone

Tell me...

Where will you keep these miracles of yours
What will you do with them
Will you weave them together and sleep under them
Will you carve them in red stone and build a Tower

Little one, little one come to me
Little one come to me
The evening birds they sing their song
And the sky is kneeling down
And the sky is kneeling down

Will you build a Tower so tall
That it stands high for everyone to see
So that you never forget
And always remember
So that your legend becomes a page in humanities story

Little one, little one come to me
Little one come to me
The evening birds they sing their song
And the sky is kneeling down
And the sky is kneeling down

Tell me...

Before you close your eyes
Tell me of today's miracles

Is it possible for one to know the depth of another's emotions?
Know it so well, so deeply, so profoundly that we too feel it?
That we too are brought to our knees?

If they could tell us;
If they were to try and explain their wax and wane
Their torrent of tears, their raging fears

Would we listen?
Or would we insist
"You're being unreasonable and emotional. You must stop this."

Are our hearts big enough?
Is there room
For a frightened soul needing to be exhumed?

"The Wind called out my name and tugged and pulled at the hem of my skirt, refusing to be ignored.

Annoyed I turned on my heel,
"What do you want?" rushed off my tongue "I'm very busy"

The Wind sighed "You use to open your door to seek me, to smell me, to taste me.
You use to loosen your hair free from your hair combs just to have my scent flow through it.
But for some time now you've been lost to me, and to your own nature.  I've come to reclaim you."

"Thank you." was all I could say...