Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Gabriel


Messenger of fire and water
your own birth foretold in a dream

I hold you in my arms and gaze upon your face
the delicate skin, your tiny fingers,

and wonder what dreams wrinkle your nose and brow
when I might hold you again

listen for your new songs, 
this fragile life that is yours

and wonder how big you will become
when you take on the difficult conversations

how much we come to expect of you
your powers of interpretation

the foundation of intervention
whispered in the night

an epiphany that changes everything. 
May it be.

Monday, February 20, 2017

Concerto Leah in D Major


Concerto Leah in D Major

Your name means Light of the Sun in Celtic.
In Hebrew it meant Tired and Weary
which you refused to settle for
so walked to Viking hills and Norman valleys
the passive melancholy you would not accept
the way of resignation, not on your watch. 

Then you walked across the ocean to the territory
of the Cree, Blackfoot, Metis and Nakota Sioux
whose ghostly songs haunted the mountains.

Your seven children are Patience, Mindfulness,
Stealth, Inquiry, Justice, Vigilance
and Compassion.

And now you will travel back to the Saxon,
Gaul and Viking winds that taught you
to never give in. 

So rest when you can. Restore your passion
the crescendo of your dreams
the a Capello chains in your ear
rising to the Concerto 
that is your life.



🎵

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

Treasure Your Grief

Not like a piece of jewelry kept in a box
but a scar across your face
a house plant blooming where sun
glares through a window.

Go back to that time—
the sunny afternoon in the park
you didn’t question
your feelings sweeping you out
from childhood to another’s body
so close it enters like a possession
a desire that doesn’t name itself

cut by fear
this is how women are destroyed
and you run away
shut down the portal to pleasure
as you will do again and again.

Go back to the image you hold onto
the someday promised, this or this
the girl who gives because she feels
the movie star everyone wants but can’t have
the radiant flesh, the brilliant idea
all yours if you play your cards
right not wrong. Right not left. Right not alone,
starving or battered.

New dove, shapely, winged and wise, goddess poised
on the edge of a mountain in the clouds
ready to jump or fly to eternal glory
shattered by all the missteps, mistakes and failings
the undeniable proof of your unremarkable humanity
your place in the anonymous family
and all the ways you have been let down or built up
washing the cloth of invincibility.

You’ll dream of long corridors searching for a baby
taken at birth to find she was never yours
and in the mirror no tragic victim looks back at you
no Cinderella or Joan of Arc.

Grief is not loss but inheritance, your fire,
your form. Grief is the callback to play yourself
with your sweat, your fear, challenged by desire
to answer the breaking Earth as though she were a heart
or some other organ, her blood rushing through
your own veins. As though you were yourself
a mind created to save her and after all these years
you learn the only thing you can be sure about
are the many opportunities you threw away.

There are no happy endings.
There is struggle. There is gratitude.
And there is silence.


From Infinite Power (Ekstasis 2016)

Saturday, October 29, 2016

Strategic Plan

Love everyone
Hate no-one
Move to the edge.









This poem is from my latest book
"Infinite Power" published this year 
by Ekstasis.


Cover image is a painting by Paul Grignon
titled "Heroic Journey"

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

A Valentine's Card


Hello! This will not be store-bought
sentiment nor a fresh baked muffin
or garlic mash. This is not the perfect
martini or single malt.

The stories you read to me in bed
are not here either and this is not a promise
to love you more today than other days.

Nothing can be said that you don't already know.
But something should be observed beyond
the familiar footsteps from one room to another
the ritual brew of coffee and the laundry --

you are the sky the curtains and the toast
of my life, you are the father of my entry
into motherhood, the face I call home
and the arms of my inland security
you are tomorrow and the day thereafter.

First published in The Tyee within an article by Linda Solomon




-- Janet Vickers of Abbotsford

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Ahead of His Time

Dear Lucas you are eager to enter this world
to begin your work as part of the team
Gaia’s Reflective Angels
bringing the weather back to life’s love.

So tiny you are and yet so large in spirit
so forthright in intention you are clearly here
and I will not venture to say what you will do
it is not for me to guess

but to be open to your vision as you struggle
with conflicting dreams and urges
the weaving of your inherited gifts
the integrity of each thread creating a new age.

Sunday, February 8, 2015

One Love

And did this air in ancient time
breath upon Gaia’s flowing streams
And was the rooted tree of life
From mountain peaks to valleys seen.
And where the ocean met the shore
The dream emerged on new found feet
And was imagined here, light of day 
The cool of night and breath so sweet.

One hunter’s song in search of peace
Found kindred voice in shared release
Within the hearth’s ancestral fire
A light beyond the common feast.
And shared in work their future’s need
And in earth’s turn one life one love
An ageless legacy here to hold
Within this star’s celestial glove.

(Read at the First Unitarian Fellowship of Nanaimo, February 8, 2015, and sung to the anthem "Jerusalem" June 1, 2014. The music was originally created by Sir Hubert Parry in 1916 for William Blake's poem - a truly beautiful lament against the industrial revolution, but was used as a pro-nationalist hymn during WWI).