Sunday, May 10, 2009

One And One Make Two


















The intact shells two halves making a whole catch my eye
Balanced lightly there where the receding tide left them
Two shells open to the sky as a random pair of pairs.
Something about them is meaningful to me today.

I can only see these things in my solitude.
When I’m alone I notice all sorts of things around me
When I’m not looking inward lost in my thoughts.
This is the gift for me of being in the solo moment.

It seems I can only focus on one thing at a time.
When I’m with another and fully engaged with them
I hardly know what else is going on besides our conversation.
Today I walked past a pond and didn’t see it.

The shells are a symbol in my waking dream.
The meaning is complex, but basically it’s simple.
The symmetry of one and one makes two,
That’s the thought or feeling in the back of my mind.

Of course I love the curve of the shell and the curve of the shadow
And the way the curve changes as you move around.
That’s a sensuous experience for me.
I take a photograph to be able to enjoy what will be gone with the next tide.

And now I return to my personal self examination.
It’s been a long time in my sense of time since anyone wanted me
In the way that couples in love want each other.
And when it happened in the past, I didn’t question it.

I just happily gave over my full affection,
Unconcerned whether there was any hidden agenda,
Unsuspecting, full of endorphins from sex,
Full of hope and expectations.

Do you know, I miss that young man in love.
And I forgive him and forgive her, too,
For all the years and years out of love with each other,
Loving the children but miserably disappointed.

What would it be like to be an old man in love?
I long to feel the warm touch of another
Soothing the ache, taking the pain away,
Feeling the joy and grief of love lost and found again.

Friday, May 8, 2009

The Underworld












for my son


The underworld, under the water,
In the darkness of the tidal brown silt of the estuary,
Where you go in your scuba diving gear
With your eyes closed.

“You can’t see anything anyway”, you explain.
“It’s easier to feel your way with your eyes shut.”
You can’t see your air meter or wrist watch.
You must trust your partner on land with your life.

Every week you practice with your team,
Year round, even in the winter ice.
The siren call knows no season.
You are the heroes who rescue others.

You are too often called to the grim recovery work,
Bringing up lifeless bodies from the depths,
Stiff and damaged, found by groping in the dark,
Pulled up into the light as a horrific sight.

I can only imagine what it is like being down there,
All alone, blind, pulled along by the currents,
Guessing where you might be, guessing
How much time you have left before you must surface.

You who journey to the underworld so often,
You become a guide as one who knows well the murky waters,
The tidal currents of the unconscious carrying our surface thoughts along,
As if the conscious mind were in control.

You must know yourself and be secure in yourself
To make those dives down to meet your fears.
You come back to us a changed man
As one who has been put to the test and kept your grip.

I have never faced the challenge of the dark depths.
I don’t know if I could do it.
You have my respect and admiration.
I am proud of your accomplishment.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

spring rain swamp walk


























Saturday, May 2, 2009

trillium
















Out with the old and in with the new,
It’s time for the spring renewal.

Complete new plumbing end to end,
A father son project prepares the cabin
For the next decade to be enjoyed
With in line hot water showers.

A fresh set of storage batteries
To hold the photovoltaic charge,
New LED lights brighten up
The corners and recesses.

The hammock will soon swing
On the new back porch.
The cabin will soon extend and enlarge
Into something we imagine.

I love this place
And most of all I love sharing it.
I love knowing I will be here when I am gone
And it is passed to you and yours.

I take a short walk up the stream
Past the main waterfall, past the upper pool
And chance upon an expanse of trillium flowers
So rare, so crimson, such passion.

The water caresses the smooth rocks,
The sunlight ripples in the lens of gentle waves,
Such exquisite beauty all around,
With the great expanse of summer ahead of us.