Evolution

Whitman, Emerson and Thoreau

died in America.

Four boys escaped Lejac and froze

to death on the lake near home.

The army in Uzbekistan executed children

as an example.

We are not really toilet trained.

We are trained to believe we are.

I have learned how to scream

with my mouth closed.

(from Infinite Power, Ekstasis 2016)

The Heart Will Not Be Managed

That is what they told me as I strolled through

their territory. They said you can cut us all down

but our roots will find a way over or under

other roots. They say look at how we shield

the thinnest branches and the softest leaves

without telling how or where to grow.

We house birds of all kinds no matter

how they live or what they believe.

We don’t ask for love from mice

or loyalty from snakes. We have not created

by-laws here, demanding that neighbours sign

before entering. We don’t judge. When something

invades our sky and we cannot reach the light

we grow in a different direction.

They ask me to look at my own ancestors

for the proof, put your gears in reverse and look

at where you came from as you ventured slowly

out of the ocean with new found legs looking

for something to eat. Then look at the first mother

and the first father how they laughed and how they cried

never questioning the authenticity of their tears.

Look at you they say. Look at how you survived

your first breath, learned how to walk, how to speak,

how to hold the next generation inside

until they are ready to be born.

All we ask is that you remember these thoughts

when you are locked in a concrete cell

when you are tortured by your own confessions

or sent back to the sea in a coffin.

The heart knows who you are

and will be with you until you die.

(from Infinite Power, Ekstasis 2016)

The Begat of Gratitude

cover painting by Paul Grignon

To those who gave birth to my ancestors

who told me stories of the world

who showed me how to love it.

To all those who by accident and brief encounter

brought me to some truth I did not want to know.

To those who, not knowing my name

helped when I needed help

and who received mine when they needed it.

To those who by commitment of their will

have learned to write, sing, dance or paint

the message we most need to learn.

To all those who have the courage to put their skill

on the public stage to serve

as doctor, lawyer, minister, teacher, publisher,

scientist or social worker.

To those whose names I may never learn

who clean the office, drive the bus, do the laundry

pick the fruit and stack the shelves.

To those who have listened to another 

when they needed to be heard.

To all who embrace their vulnerability

and who enter into compassion.

For you are the names and the faces

of my gratitude.

(from Infinite Power, Ekstasis 2016)