by

Camelot

I am blindfolded on a plank.
My hands crisscrossed. A sword in each.
The sky drizzles sorrow around me.

I need to take my blindfold off.
I must break free from this bondage.
A knight in full armour arrives.
Together we escape.

We drink from the cup of life.
My life is blessed. As I move down
the path of life, I walk alongside
my knight. We protect each other.

A chariot rolls by. We nod and smile.
A white rose is tossed from the driver
and lands at my feet.

As I bend to pick up the flower
a wizard appears holding a jewelled
chalice in his hands. Stars burst
from the cup. Dragons flame forth.
Crows and fairies fly forward, upward
to the clouds. I stand in awe and
bow to the truth.

A rider on a beautiful white horse
approaches with an offering. My knight
allows him to pass and I accept the
offering. Streams of water flow from
an emerald cup.

My bonds have been broken. I am
protected by all who have come before
me, and all who are to follow.

by

Will-o-the-wisps

Will-o-the-Wisp

(photo credit: elderscrolls.wikia.com)

The outline of memories hover along the periphery of the flames
like an image on the eyes after looking at the sun.

Will-o-the-wisps chase each other in circles,
dream sparks rising high in the night sky.

A little girl in her tree house eats fresh strawberries sweet and plump.
Lips and fingers stained red mark the pages of her book
as she reads perched amongst swaying aspens.

A coyote howls. A quick staccato yip, yip, yip
is followed by a long, drawn out oooo-eeee.
From far across the field another answers.

The little girl wavers then disappears.

A series of pops and sizzles from logs in the fire
insist on attention.

by

Canyon Hike

Johnston-Canyon-Upper-Falls

(photo credit: Graeme Pole. Johnston Canyon)

We stepped with purpose, a marching band of old and young.
We dodge other hikers as we ascend the canyon.

Water rushes in bubbling, white torrents, foaming and splashing
as it forces its way through narrow gorge walls that squeeze
and open and narrow again.

Glacier blue liquid leaps and spins, pole vaulting over boulders,
hurdling fallen trees, and diving into swirling eddy pools.

The sun’s rays find their way into the canyon beaming heat onto
our backs and shoulders and the tops of our heads. Faces redden
and our pace slows.

A surge from the river skips over wooden boards, flying above the
rocky path. It startles flesh with a icy smack, then drops to thirsty ground.

We mount staircases built into cliff sides. We zigzag upward along wire
mesh catwalks that cling to the canyon walls.

At last we bask in the mist and spray of water cascading down the deep ravine.
We admire moonholes and caves, and smooth sensuous, curving stonework
sculpted by water

rushing
rushing
rushing
doing exactly what it is supposed to do.

We descend into hordes of people all wanting to see what we just saw. It feels
like we are on a broken escalator. Elbows and shoulders bump as we jostle and
scramble past each other.

At last we sit and lick soft ice cream in gentle circular strokes from
crunchy cones, as we savour the thrill of completing our hike.