Flow

Dear Lord,

Today, please grant me the patience
and courage to sit with the experiences
I would rather rush past.

To linger and learn from dark memories.
To see the best in the worst.
To be fearfully and wonderfully mad, glad, sad.

To drag the saturation filter up
on my life-processing program.
Let it all pop.

To be a person of rich text
and infinite spectrum of colour
in a bleached-out, faded world.

To flow richer, fuller, more.
To be your kingdom come.
Amen.





With deepest thanks to Henry Rempel, Cheryl Miller, Joshua Gorenflo, Bethany Bassett, Kelly @ Love Well and John Blase who, by their conversations, lit these fireworks of daily prayer one hot day in August 2014.

Photo mine: “Inflow” by Jay Bigam (oil), Spring 2018 exhibition, Akokiniskiway Gallery, Rosebud, Alberta

Be

Be kind
Be safe
Be neat
Be true

Pretty much covers it all.




Photo: personal collection, text added via WordSwag

To Be

To be

Love comes first
like a mirror
the more he shows me
who I am
the more I see
who he is
and when I look
in the mirror and see
him beside me
he is what I want
who I want
where I want no more

Inspired by 2 Corinthians 3:16-18




Photo: Personal collection, text edit on Wordswag

Gifts

Yellow flowers
grow quiet
by the highway,
lifting faces to God
while most drivers
rush blindly on.

Messenger of Death

Disregard his whispered threats
fear-inducing innuendo
Ignore his lies, only God decides
the time, the place.

Deny his power,
he has none, this messenger
only comes at divine appointment
when Heaven is longing for you.





Photo: personal collection, Cascade Mountain, Banff National Park

Last Gasp

Last Gasp

A weary walk
through a frozen world
raging fire behind the eyes
face stung by tearing wind
winter's last gasp cast

Tomorrow I rise
above this clay
Burst into bloom

~Joyce E. Rempel

Warm Westerly

Chinook arch is strong today,
lingers long across the sky.
Southeast to northwest the way
clouds bow and stretch from side to side.

The western wind warms all below.
Changes temps to balmy height,
releases streams of melting snow,
elates the heart and brings delight.

Beware if it should make landfall--
where you stand becomes a fright.
At a hundred clicks or more, the squall
will tumble all within its might.

Fast it’s gone and birds can rest
on the branch tips without fear;
sing their songs and build their nest
as sky returns to blue and clear.

​Photos: from my back deck on this date

Sometimes

Having a dog roots me.
Sometimes
like feet in gumbo
the suction so strong
if I walk
my foot slides out
of the stuck rubber boot
and lands splat
back in terra muck

Having a dog roots me
Sometimes
like the strength
of hundred year oaks
made patient by the grasp
of ancient acorn
reaching through its leathery shell
for life and the love of dirt

Or like the extendable leash
keeping us connected
Hard to tell who’s walking whom
but the red woven strap
gives and takes
keeps us both secure, entwined
Together

She roots through blankets,
garbage, and my heart.
Sometimes
she blankets my heart
and roots out the garbage.

Having a dog roots me
Sometimes
I circle three times
before sighing to sleep
Letting go of
the leash
the muck
the grasping

Catch a waterfall in a paper cup

Hover at the torn edge

of mountain silhouette

Light arrows shoot east

explode through trees

Fire fingers stretch the horizon

stroke luminous colour 

on soft underbelly of cloud

Shadows smoulder above

Picture window frames one frame

more than the heart can hold

Photo: "From the Family Room," personal collection

Morning Exercise

Reach up into the cupboard
lift down the bowl and plate
place softly on the granite
so neither one will break

Pull the first drawer forward
pick up the knife and spoon
circle round the island
like a crescent moon

Bend into the pantry
through the yawning door
granola and some raisins
into the bowl to throw

Grip the fridge door handle
pull out the coconut milk
add raspberries for color
stir circles smooth as silk

Return to fridge, take out the bread
sans gluten, unrefined
slide the butter closer
sweet spun honey find

Push down the toast, rotate halfway
to even out the burn
While you wait, pivot and take
your coffee cup to urn

When all is said and done
you've stretched and put away
sit down to eat this silly poem
and send it on its way.



Picture: Personal collection

Good Things

Evening bike ride
in the twilight by the river
Blackbird singing
from the edge of the wood
Moon smiles back
and we thank the Giver
For every perfect gift
and all that is good.



Picture: Fish Creek Park, Bow River, Calgary, personal collection

Blue Plate Special

Fillet clouds
rippled fish scales
rest on a plate of blue

I drink the mulled wine
of sweet summer sun
savour this menu
of small gifts



Picture: Personal collection

One Load at a Time

Laundry swishing and tumbling
like my thoughts
wondering
if I'll be dried up and wrinkled
or gently folded by caring hands
for good use on a future day



Picture: sourced online

Easy vs. Hard

the easiest thing
and the laziest
is to watch
read
listen
and judge

the hardest is
to do better




Picture: depositphotos.com #39196783, standard license

Morning Glory

light and shadow
floating mountains
morning glory
on golden fall



Picture: Kananaskis Range, personal collection

Oh, Yes. I do.

I want to live in a world
where little things
are noticed
small victories celebrated
like what we enjoyed for supper
because I dared make something new

Where we sit on the deck
watch the clouds change
ever so slowly
jets on approach from a different trajectory
quiet sunsets

And we guess which bird
is making that call
and we don't debate
whether that's a purple
or house finch
at the feeder

I want to live in a world where
we retire graceful and grateful
to push-mower and hammock
mustang restoration and
room redecorating
as the young stressed thin
take our place at the job

Where there's always a stage
another act another song
belly laughs and road trips
Where we do things alone
because we can't miss
each other if we're never apart

Where you wink at me
in a crowd or from the 'cycle
reach for my hand
in church or over coffee
after chocolate or wine
where you hand me
a cuppa tea at day's end

I want to live in a world
with quiet sunsets
bluegrass and bonfires
your jigsaw puzzle, my poetry
lullabies and prayers
at home in your arms



Picture: Jill Hopkins

Morning Worship

Our backyard is an open aviary.

The blooms attract the bees,
the bees and the bird seed attract the birds:
finch, sparrow, chickadee, downy

and squirrels.

The feeder was full at 10 pm
and empty at 8 am.
The birds sing, chirp, squawk,

the squirrel chatters.

Some birds scratch a hole in the dirt
and grovel in it, fight over it.
Some catch moths or bees mid flight.

Sometimes the squirrel hangs
upside down by his feet
to reach the seed.

Our backyard is an open aviary,  morning worship.




Photo: Personal collection

And A Little Child Will Lead Them

I see her in a plain red dress

not quite like little orphan Annie

because her hair is straight brown

but she takes the man’s hand

who seems to be her dad

sitting at a round table in a brown suit

from Father Knows Best

but the feeling is like home

He’s reading the newspaper

like they do in the fifties

but as soon as she grabs hold

he turns, stands and follows

where she wants him to come see

and I think that’s how it goes

when I wanna show God something

and he ooohs and ahhhs

over the tiny flower I found

or pets that puppy next door 

or we laugh together

while he fixes whatever’s

broken just like that 

he comes when I reach

or sometimes when I don’t

and I remember I’m not an orphan




Photo credit: Depositphotos.com #91173348, Standard License

Gratitude List

a change in season starts with a storm
unkind folks show us how not to be
singing doesn't need light

For these and many other gifts, I give thanks.



Picture: personal collection

Healing

And the demons in her head
stopped long enough
to watch her dance
then slipped out the door
swallowed by silent light.



Photo: Personal collection