in my spare time i work on building human wings

yesterday i saw 

one hundred white gulls

turning cartwheels through the heavens.

they are celebrating 
the long awaited arrival of blue sky!

i thought.

then i remembered:

they float through that fleeting realm 

morn by morn

afternoon by afternoon.
they have no notion of want for it.

but i wanted.

and i wished i was a bird.

with You

Pull me quickly out of sleep,
wrench me softly from my dreams
away from all my other needs
and hold me.

Lift up from earth my downcast face
show me, look, a further place
ev'n while I cannot trust Your grace
to lead me where I’m drawn.

Walk me down towards the sand,
gently pull off my desires and
stripped, naked, open, here I stand
in front of You.

Burn up all my ancient drab,
an off’ring to You take all I have
touch my toes with ocean grand
and wash me.

A water loud and wildly pure
drown me take me make me Yours
then raise me up above the surf
to rest on waves brand new.

And from my broken body bloom
a sea-flower garden to fill this tomb
cry out the old declare the new
now breathe into my heart.

For nothing else can fill that space
that crooked rocky worn out place
except Your flooding liquid grace
just hold me.

Polite Notice

In Kenya everything gets said in an overly polite way. Even where we would put up a sign that says "Warning" theirs say "Polite Notice". Things like age and losses, most importantly, problems always arise "somehow" and it should also be noted that one should rarely confront another on a personal issue, but instead mention it casually to a mutual friend and hope it gets passed on. 

Somehow 

i cannot close the gate today. 

Maybe [perhaps] the latch is broken.

[In any case]

i have kindly spoken with your friend 

on this subject

yet it seems that

[somehow]

things have continued on 

as they were.

So i will ask you now [with much regret] to

[Please] 

stop walking through my mind.

"Is there anything else you want to know?"

There is one question

which i fear to ask

over all others. 

Will you chase me if I run?

And God made me Woman

By Gioconda Belli

And God made me woman, with the long hair, the eyes, the nose and the mouth of a woman.
With curves and folds and soft hollows...
God dug into me, made a workshop in me for human beings, delicately wove my nerves, and carefully balanced the number of my hormones, composed my blood and injected me with it so that it would irrigate my entire body.
And so ideas were born, dreams, instict, everything God gently created with hammering whispers and the drilling motions of love, the thousand and one things that make me a woman every day, that make me proud every morning when I arise and bless my sex.

love affair with the breeze

to drink the liquor of your love
to breathe in your parfum
O yes
to rest
in your caress,
to drift with you through afternoons.

i love your lightness
i fear your force,
i hate your mystery
yet i trust your course;

you call me to dance
to rush 'cross the long skies,
to plunge into deep valleys
and to crest the steep rise.

and i live for the way
that you say my name
how it whispers through trees
how it wanders down lanes.

O, no other thing
shall compare, i believe,
to this beautiful, breathtaking
love affair with the breeze.

dear god

I want to happen upon a place where I might strip off all my prior wants and desires and pile them heaping up towards your sky in a great alter and watch them burn burn burn and until there is only smoke going up and only ash falling down and then slip quickly naked and clean into the waters of a great ocean that is so loud and wild and purely full of passion for you that drowning is not some kind of fearful death but a desirous joyful end to the old life and a fertile place where new bright sea flowers bloom from the carcasses of old broken bodies and where the angels cry out that behold the old has passed away and the new has come and there will be surge of new life filling up the sea and soon the waters will rise up and overtake the dry land and and all the dry people that have not yet let go and they too will drown and suddenly come rushing back for more life after shedding their old selves and laying their hearts open on the rollicking waves of newness and being warmed by the sun and everything will explode into a glorious spectrum of rainbow buds that sparkle and dance together and create a whole new world and everyone can shout amen.

if there's one thing i know

from my mother
i have learned
to find joy in small victories
like keeping strawberries alive
or finding a good deal.
I have learned
to be cautious yet loving of strangers and relatives
and also i have learned
to appreciate good food.

from my father
i have learned
to look for unexpected beauties
like one million birds moving at once off the marshland
or every morning’s new sunrise.
i have learned
to never let my dreams take off unless I am riding on their wings
and also i have learned
to make my own way through the forest.

from my sister
i have learned
to shut up and listen for a moment
like when we disagree
or during a song that has exceedingly good bass.
i have learned
to forgive gracefully and to go on loving people afterwards
and also i have learned
to thoroughly appreciate ice cream and chocolate sauce.

from my grandmother
i have learned
to take the chances we are given
like accepting a blind date
or picking up and settling down, again.
i have learned
to read good books and to eat bran cereal
and i have learned
that most of the best life advice is found in good housekeeping magazine.

from my grandfather
i have learned
to go on new adventures
like learning to sail
or traveling to the rockies to see a bike race.
i have learned
to always give of myself and to keep my door wide open
and also i have learned
to thrive in a new country with only “beer” and “hamburger” in my vocabulary.

from my opa and oma
i have learned
to persevere in any situation
like being separated from true love
or getting through slow season at the bakery
i have learned
to be light-hearted and ready to catch a baked potato from across the table
and also i have learned
to eat krokets and oliebollen on new year’s eve.

from my best friend
i have learned
to be confident in all things
like abilities and personal style
or in talking about the deepest places of the heart.
i have learned
to trust God’s goodness will meet needs and desires daily
and also i have learned
the importance of curry powder.

notice board

There is
a notice board,
which i pass by
everyday.
Garden-like
it sprouts
new thoughts
new desires
new treasures
holding
shape and color,
and
a particular joy,
unique unto itself.

The sun moves,
new things spring up
old things die
and are buried.
Static
but never the same.

Pull back the layers,
and discover:
each has left a mark
each
thought
desire
treasure
has changed it at its core.

People,
too,
I think,
are like this.

to see You cry

jigsaw puzzles.

today
i woke
to the sweet serenity of Your timing
waiting to reveal just the piece for this moment.
and i saw
the thrilling beauty of Your final picture:
i saw it complete.
and i saw You cry today for each one that forced their own makeshift shapes into spaces and
refused
to
listen.

sunshine.

today
i woke
to the glow of Your presence
waiting to be soaked it into every fibre of each spirit.
and i saw
old shells shod off and new life burst forth:
i saw monotony shatter into color.
and i saw You cry today for each one that
just
could not
let
go.

mason jars.

today
i woke
to the intoxication of Your love
waiting to be poured into the empty mason jars of souls.
and i saw
liquor and tears and false smiles and every other kind of pain washed out:
i saw it spiral down the kitchen sink.
and i saw You cry today for each one that stopped up the drain and scooped up their sorrows
one
more
time.

today
i woke
and saw You

crying.

high

the world curls back.
foundations fall away
forgotten.
night bleeds out:
dawn seeps in.
oh, i'll drink the air
intoxicating like spirits in my viens.
a caged soul screams from sinew
and
soars
soars
soars
lost in the beauty of this
high.

thank goodness for concrete

here
my heart is stripped in two;
imeanitistorninhalf.
here essential,
here superfluous.
vague flowers twist up from sidewalk cracks,
while haggard cobwebs entrance me more.
there is no signage.
no,
and so,
i walk
northandsouth
and
eastandwest.
dissimilar to my elastic mind:
good thing this town is so static,
or i would be lost forever.

"I must write it all out, at any cost. Writing is thinking. It is more than living, for it is being conscious of living."
Ann Morrow Lindbergh

I am Saskatchewan

I am Saskatchewan
I am tied to the land
I am heaven on fire sunsets in summer
fresh cut flax in fall
screaming winds in winter
living air sweet as syrup in spring
I am emerald lakes
diamond snows
spun gold fields
azure skies
I am morning walks down the old gravel road
noontime siestas in the last rays of sun
evening festivals on the river
midnight lights dancing across empty horizons
I am undulating hills
stretching plains
plunging valleys
untamed wildwood
I am sometimes silent
sometimes roaring
always alive
I am Saskatchewan
I am tied to the land

everybody leaves

everybody leaves
closeness
care
trust
support
gone without warning.

everybody leaves
except you
never want to go from me.
so i am afraid
to hold on
to finally reach
to grasp your hand
only to find
the fading wisps of a dream.
so
i will be first-gone,
far-gone.

and i won't lose
one more person.

don't try to tell me it will all be okay.
(liar).

When I am 52

When I am 52
I shall live on a farm in England
where there are cozy fireplaces on dreary days
and lovely gardens on sunny afternoons.
I shall wear slacks and flowy skirts with woolen sweaters
and drink lemon tea from a clay mug.
I shall rise with the sun to feed the ducks and sheep
and also to give the horse a left over apple.
I shall go to bed early, before it gets too cold
and I shall be warm under old quilts and knitted blankets.
When I am 52
I shall have a garden which shall yeild
cucumbers and lettuce and carrots and beets and tomatoes
and other such things
and I shall walk in the morning mist and pluck slugs from their leaves.
When I am 52
I shall own a llama.

The Way You Romance Me

How can I describe
the way you make me feel?
It is an excitement and adoration
so different than anything else.
It is amazement at everything and every place you touch in my life.
How can I describe
the beauty I find in you?
The way your sunrises take my breath away
The way I am speechless about how everything falls together.
The way birds sound and wind feels and grass smells
and clouds look and fruit tastes.
How can I thank you
for so many angels
so many people you have used to help me grow.
For health and safety and opportunity
for emotions and choices
for the ultimate sacrifice that you made to show your love for me.
How can I explain it?
[the way you romance me]

My poetry makes me smile. It makes me feel on top of the world because when I put myself on paper I can leave it there and only visit it when I want to. The happy things are kept for ever in words. I can take them out when ever I want to. The painful things are put down and put away. But I can take them out when ever I want to, also.
My poetry is a collection of my life at it's best and worst points. It forces me to explore myself, my world and the worlds of other people.

The Mare

(she's a wild one)

Hair twisting in curls
tangled by the wind.
Independent.
Strength from learning
to do
more.
than.
just.
survive.
Dark eyes see
and know.
Aware.
Everything about her screams
(don’t even try to hold me.)

But
you can trust her.
(see, she won’t tell your secrets.)
But
you can’t know her.
(see, she won’t even tell you her own secrets.)
Always ready to run.
She's trying to let down her guard
but trust is a hard thing for one to have
when all around there is so much
obscurity.
lies.
traps.

If you want to know her
meet her on her own grounds
and.
be.
patient.
(but don’t expect it to pay off.)

She’s a runner.