Window to My Love

Most of my posts in this blog have been about my writing projects. But I am more than a writer, and I think it’s time to open the window to my soul a little wider.

This past weekend my spouse and I celebrated our 30th anniversary, counting from the time we first committed to love each other forever. It was a wonderful celebration with a short service that could be considered a renewal of our vows.

There were some who were invited and could not attend. There were many we wanted to invite but were limited by the resources we had. It is especially for you that I share here the poem that I read.

To My Love

I loved you, my friend
From the beginning
When our lives were separate
And we just talked

I admired you
Sensed your compassion
And integrity
Wanted to know you better

We shared a home
Shared laughter and tears
Never had I cared
So much

No one ever mattered
Like you did
You put your hand in mine
And touched my soul

Our sharing and caring
Became a lover’s love
Something so unexpected
And so wonderful

We couldn’t deny our love
It just didn’t fit
In the closet of bad things
Of harmful and hurtful things

So we made a special closet
To hide our love
We were lovers in the closet
And friends outside

The closet was stuffy
Lonely and shameful
We could hardly breathe
Leaving was scary

When we came up for air
Soaking in the sunshine
Rooted in love
We grew stronger

We lost some things
When we left the closet
But now we are richer
Than ever before

Twenty-three years ago
We stood proud and tall
Shared our vows
Rejoiced in our love

Love, a thing of the soul
Transcends time and space
Transforms words and actions
Informs and inspires us

Today we celebrate
And re-affirm
The love we’ve known
More than thirty years

My friend, my lover
Through the end
We’ll talk, we’ll laugh, we’ll cry
Connected, you and I

Evolution

I’ve been slowly working away at my poems and short stories from my November writing. The dog I wrote about in the last poem has something to do with my lack of time to work on it, as his physical condition deteriorates. It’s surprisingly difficult to find a way to put together a number of individual projects. It’s not something I’ve tried before.

One of the obvious things to do is to re-read the poems and find ways to improve them. It is interesting how helpful it can be to look at something, take a break, and look at it again, and then again. I was working on a poem I had titled “Evolution” which is also the provisional title of my collection of poems and stories. I suddenly realized that this one poem encapsulates what my month of writing was about.

Some time ago, I was part of an online discussion about the ills that humans have caused in this world. Basically, the things we have done wrong. They might be things that seem normal to our civilization, but they cause harm. Someone suggested to me that I “write our wrongs”. I’ve tried to do that a number of times, to put some perspective to those harmful things humans have done. It was difficult and left me stuck in the wrongs. Then finally I came to this poem, and I knew that this was it: this poem said what I needed to say.

Evolution

I tried to right our wrongs
Separate the organics
From
The toxic plastic
The altered metals
Let the leaves, the stems,
The flowers, the twigs
Return to the gentle earth
From which they grew

I taught the children
Respect for critters
Plastic to the landfill
Used tissues in compost
Open your senses
To the natural world around you
Live in deep respect
For the vegetation
The wildlife
Protect the smallest insect
Honour the plant
Growing in the cracks

I tried to write our wrongs
In a poem
Of critters become pests
Death splatter on windshields
On asphalt
Paradise paved
Of kids cooped in boxes
Sitting at desks
Minds melded to screens
Tar sands and tailing ponds
Slag heaps and coke ovens
Clear-cut forests
Poisoned rivers
But I feared this poem
Would have no end

So I turned to stories
Of humans who evolve
Who stop
Righting the wrongs
Fighting the wrongs
Even ignoring the wrongs
Who discover
The heart-beat of the universe
As their breath is pulled
Deep within
Who release
Their harmful, soul-less life
At the end of their out-breath
Who start
Living from their Soul
The heart of the universe.

A November Recap With a Poem

National Novel Writing Month was very interesting for me. I immersed myself in writing poems and short stories, only in my spare time, but in almost every moment of that time. In the process, I learned to listen to and express my inner wisdom.

In the end, the amount of that type of writing that accumulated was impressive. I wrote 54 poems, some of them only part or short, and four short stories.

In the next while I will go through the poems and short stories and make revisions. I plan to choose some of the poems and the short stories and compile them into a collection that I can share. Perhaps the wisdom I found will be of benefit to others as well.

In the meantime, I offer this poem. It is a poem about one of my family’s dogs, written in the middle of writing all the other poems. Much can be learned from the other creatures that we humans share this earth with. Perhaps this is one of the most important things we can do for ourselves as the outer world that we know changes so rapidly: look to the non-human creatures and learn from them. They know things our busy thinking brains don't show us.

Ringo
Our dog
A most precious soul
Sharing with us
This time and place

His eyes
Speak volumes
A knowing
Beyond words
Bigger than words
His demeanour
Softens
The hardest heart
Brings a smile
To the painfully
Self-conscious

Live
He tells us
Right now
Soak in the sun
When it shines
Smell every scent
On your path
Taste every morsel
You find
Look into the eyes
Of those who love you
Shake off the little things
When you can

As his joints fail
Muscles weaken
Cold and damp
Slow him down
He tells us
Live
Right now
In this moment
Be who you are
Be present
And love
Be love

Looking to My Month of Writing: November

November is approaching. It is the month of the year that I count on being able to write, using the structure of nanowrimo.org. NaNoWriMo is intended for novel writing. It has been used successfully by many people to get into the flow of writing and accomplish a large chunk of writing in a short time.

This year I am really only using NaNoWriMo to give me the structure to find time to write. I won’t be writing large numbers of words. I don’t expect to write a novel. But I do expect to do what I always do in November: use every spare moment for writing.

Despite having no plot or characters, this year’s planning feels much like other years. I feel myself getting into the “space” that is particular to my writing month. I am finding my way to the place where I can be open to my inner muse. This process is something that is always hard to put into words, but I can say some about it. One thing I have focused on is my breathing, the kind of deep breaths that allow me to connect to the still place inside me, the place that connects with the life of all beings. I also have a list of ideas that I can imagine might be the basis for poems. I expect to write poetry, and maybe a short story or longer story. But other than breathing and a list of ideas, I have no other concrete preparations. This will be a month of listening to my inner wisdom and creativity rather than counting on word following word to generate flow.

I try to live in the moment as much as I can these days, but I am looking forward to seeing what comes of a month of this kind of writing.

Poem: Human Canary

Leaden skies
Heavy and sullen
Pin me to
This dying earth
An indifferent
Atmosphere
Holds me down

Climate-induced
Depression
Leaves me longing
For crisp autumn inhalations
Invigorating my steps
A gentle October sun
Illuminating the gold-veined leaves
That shine a promise
Of a vibrant spring to come

Pressed to this Earth
She, I, my body
Are one
As arthritis pains
Slow my joyous run
To a walk
Tears no longer soothe
My dry eyes
Hot flashes
Burn through me
Then leave a chill
My skin sun-attacked
No longer soothed by its warmth

I’m the canary in the coalmine
Sensing the change
The dying
My depression jolted
By agony
My tender heart
Pierced by death pangs

My love for this earth
Her creatures
Her plants
Her crazy humans
Keeps me present
This canary must live
Bear witness in my poetry
And bid farewell to
Our physical presence