Fierce
His swagger belies his years
His station
Dressed for school
With an armful of books
And determination
One small human
Amidst a billion more
Making his mark on one small moment
In this moment
There is no greater presence
Than a child who knows himself
I cross
Between right and left
Between green and greener
Between here and there
Between past and future
Between mind and body
Every crossing
I behold a few
Who travel the path of balance
At the fulcrum of existence
Neither right nor left but centred
Neither green nor greener, only grass
Neither here nor there but connected to all
Neither past nor future, only this moment
Both mind and body experienced from spirit
The bridge offers choices between opposites
The river flows with the possibility of all things
I love this poem
Its economy of words
Its simple insight
Daughter Ganga
Accept my gift
Of fire and flower
I set adrift this diya
My hopes and dreams
To your forgiveness
May the flame never expire
The petals forever bloom
Upon your purifying flow
The fire held in her hands
Burns hot and bright
But not so hot
Nor bright
As the fire in her heart
In her spirit
While those
Who participate in the rite
Focus on the ceremonial fire
To please the god, Shiva
I revel instead
In the fire and light
Of her being
Where resides the divine
The universal joy
Of a gentle wind
A small kite
And a length of string
In a child’s hand
Both the child’s
And my own
Mother Ganga
Cleanse my body
Of my daily toil
Mother Ganga
Cleanse my spirit
Of my transgressions
Mother Ganga
Accept my ashes
Carry me to nirvana
Wind bends the grasses
Agitates the sea
Riffling waves roll
From water onto land
While I remain unperturbed
Steadfast
Face into the wind
As all around me
Is buffeted
And this
This is how I want to be
In the storm that is life
Where I am disturbed
By all that moves around me
Perturbed by the rushing flow
I take note
Learn the lessons nature offers
Resolve to become
Resolute as the rocky shore
Firm against the crashing waves
Supple as the grasses
Which bend then return to form
Deep as the ocean
Calm beneath its roiling surface
The wind
Whispers in my ear
Learn this
And you will become peace
I fall
A cascade
Out of the mist
Down the rocky narrows
Seeking the still
Cool waters
Their calm
But there is no pool
Only the decline
Until I am reduced
To a trickle
Then
nothing
The green clings
Tenuous
Tenacious
To a billion years
Of granite and gneiss
And green grew only
For half of that
While here am I
Where the Earth collides
With itself
To raise mountains
From sundered plains
Now left to wonder
If dinosaurs and woolly mammals
Wandered landscapes
Much different than this
At Gros Morne
A place that just feels
Older than time
Pix to Words 