Ebb and Flow

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Seven days ago I ran alongside the river
that has flowed through our city
before it was a city.

Water that never stands still,
passes people, cultures, politics, technology
without a second glance.

She keeps flowing a graceful flow
sometimes slow and lazy
sometimes turbid and raging,
always moving.

Two days ago I stepped away
from my workplace
after thirty-two years
of coming and going.
Thirty-two years with a wonderful dentist,
Dr Brian Sacks, who was by my side
through the ebb and flow
of my life.
Over the years a wonderful dentist, yes,
but a wonderful friend, too.

I have had the pleasure of working with great staff
and of course, the best patients ever!
I am grateful for the opportunity
to have shared many stories
with many people
and to have had the opportunity to have been taught
so much by my patients over the course of my career.

I will miss the conversations and laughter.
I will miss the security of knowing
“where I am supposed to be” every morning
but I look forward to this new phase of my life-
flowing beside water that never stands still.

Writing Japan

toriiofshannoshrine

(internet photo: Torii of Shanno Shrine in Nagasaki after atomic bomb was dropped on August 9, 1945. It was the only thing that withstood the explosion in the area)
A friend challenged me to write a poem about Japan; this is what I came up with.

Japan is a tsunami,
a world of samurai and sumo
ikebana and kamikaze.
The land of the rising sun
graces us with cherry blossoms
and temples that flow
from a calligraphy brush.

Earthquakes reverberate
half a world away,
carry strength
to the west,
remnants of people’s live
swept out to sea.

A crewless “ghost ship”
sails to Haida Gwaii.
While we sip exotic tea
and inspect wreckage,
Hiroshima and Nagasaki
disturb us with grace,
slowly dissolving.

Japan is a sculptured garden,
glass and sleek steel
arranged with precision
next to paper walled teahouses,
Mount Fuji an elegant backdrop
to bullet trains that shuttle
honorable tradition
into a unpruned future.

Aren’t We All A Little Crazy At Times

tracks

Everything is set in motion.

Even if we wanted to

we can’t stop the train

hauling us into a future

we can’t know.

Comfort and security

habit and norm

blur scenes

fall to the wayside.

My heart skips a beat

out of rhythm

out of balance

missing

a sense of direction.

 

Winter Respite

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We have been experiencing arctic cold temperatures and record snowfall. Yesterday the sun graced us with her glorious presence again and sent the thermometer and moods rising. We are expecting the warm weather to continue for the rest of the week – yay!
As I looked out my office window this morning I was met with a beautiful pink sky reflecting off a long, pointy icicle hanging precariously from an eave – thus the inspiration for today’s submission 🙂

morning sun provokes
nature’s dangling dagger
disarms icicle

We Can Find Hope

broken-web

Anger and tenderness: my selves.
And now I can believe they breathe in me
as angels, not polarities.
Anger and tenderness: the spider’s genius
to spin and weave in the same action
from her own body, anywhere —
even from a broken web.
(Adrienne Rich)

Women’s March Jan21,2017

I’m proud to have marched with men and women who stood up globally to unite against hate, to unite for love, who stood up to shout that all lives matter.

shoulder to shoulder
solidarity grows,
growls to a global roar

Here are the messages from a sampling of signs:
It is time for women to stop being politely angry
Women’s rights are human rights
I march because I refuse to go backwards!
Still we rise
I’m not usually a sign person but Geez!
They call it locker room talk, I call it insecurity
No longer the silent majority
We’re not going away
Our rights are not up for grabs
We are women hear us roar in numbers to big to ignore!

Onions by Lorna Crozier

red_20onion

The onion loves the onion.
It hugs its many layers,
saying, O, O, O,
each vowel smaller
than the last.

Some say it has no heart.
It doesn’t need one.
It surrounds itself,
feels whole. Primordial.
First among vegetables.

If Eve had bitten it
instead of the apple,
how different
Paradise.

Lorna Crozier
From: Sex Lives of Vegetables.