Ah, Spring....!

Heaven's vault is clamped tight
this day, refusing entry or exit
even its crown jewel captured
shut tight of its light and warmth.
Trapped below is a penetrating
dampness and cold, and a 
bellowing wind under the dark
sky's grey atmosphere, moaning
through the forest canopy
unmercifully shifting masts
of forest giants, creaking in
futile protest. Packed tight on
the forest floor a melt-grimed
worn carpet of snow and ice
rude detritus of a winter season
testament that nature has been
tardy in her spring renewal. The
hoarse caws of gathering crows
sound harshly above, lightened
by the bell-like clarity of a
cardinal's welcome to spring
somewhere distant on the horizon.

Man The Wise

Humans have certainly travelled far
from their primitive beginnings as
another branch of the primate family 
of species. Since then, Human ingenuity 
has mastered science and technology
to a degree that echoes the creative
genius of nature itself in its vast 
storehouse of biological, geological
chemical and atomic inventiveness. 
Human imagination has soared into 
the vast cosmos creating a lens 
whereby astrophysicists can assess 
the very cradle of creation in endless 
space and time. Truly there is much 
to find pride in. The ease of instant 
communication now enables us to 
view what else humankind is capable 
of in showcasing barbaric atrocities 
those who gain power are capable of
investing in to control unruly subjects. 
Unleashing chemical and biological 
weapons as due punishment released
upon those foolish enough to strive 
for their human entitlements from 
sources for whom human rights will 
forever remain an alien concept. 
Stunning photographs of children 
writhing in agony as their nervous 
system shuts down thanks to an 
unsolicited gift from their nation's leader
shocks the civilized world as other 
world leaders gasp their condemnation. 
The world reels in disbelief at the 
unsupportable savagery and  anguish
then takes a deep breath, and moves on.

Disconsolate

Loved and cherished she was
a plump, unkempt terrier mix, a
'rescue' sloppily shambling about
whose traits and personality tugged
at the man's heartstrings colouring
all her ingrained habits in his
opinion as signifying her bright
intelligence and the love of life she
demonstrated that so charmed him.
His constant companion, there was
nothing he would not agree with
that she agitated for, and certainly
it was no sacrifice for him to take her
daily to a local wood where the creek
ran fast and cool inviting her to wade
and happily bark her satisfaction
as though daring any other dog to
enter her personal precinct of pleasure.
She is gone now, gone forever and the
very idea of that forever and the
permanence of her absence has
destroyed his peace of mind. He
cannot find it in himself to reconcile
with her loss, the very mention of his
cherished companion brings him to
wordless tears of anguished regret.

 

Memory Quickens

The avid gardener delighted that
April has finally arrived, takes the
measure of snow and ice still 
stubbornly clamped over garden beds
and borders, watching day by day as
spring rain begins to wash the 
lingering impudence of winter's
frozen presence into a melt gradually 
revealing the waiting soil incrementally 
appearing as snow and ice recedes
rewarded by the resilience of garden 
perennials thrusting green shoots 
emerging from their winter sleep
as though their release has suddenly 
alerted them to the imperative of an 
appearance in reassurance that life 
in a hesitated state of abeyance 
yet retains the intention of defeating 
forces of nature constraining their 
survival. Each shoot representing 
a variety of plant species the
gardener recognizes and welcomes
anticipatiing every one surfacing
none falling victim to the depth of
winter's icy penetration. The balance of
moderation returned to the garden with
the warming sun, encouragement of
gentle rains persuading bulbs and
rhizomes to nudge themselves to
action, to transform the monotony
of white and grey to radiant bursts of
colour, shade and textures, as the
garden competes with itself in the
promise of its longed-for potential.

Welcoming Spring

March has left yet the forest
floor remains deeply entrenched in
snow and ice. Winter's wind still
weaves its emphatic presence 
through the forest canopy, the 
masts of trees meeting and clacking 
in the conversation of familiar
winter. But the sun has found its
new perspective in the spring sky
as blue as morning glories eager
to begin the melt into spring.
The season's reverse migration 
has begun. A hawk spiraling above
suddenly veers and descends
its prey's memory serving it well.
Robins perch among the sumac
berries dreaming of worms,
while paper-transparent beech
foliage rustles in the presence 
of nuthatches. Above, the sight
of geese returning in formation
amid familiar choruses of
 orderly discipline. The forest
creatures that semi-hibernated
suddenly recall the allure of
familiar haunts and avid palates.


 

 

The Bare Pantry

How strange a place the world
can be, how variant social compacts
between generations when values
fluctuate so wildly they distinguish
themselves beyond recognition
one to the other. I recall living in
poverty, shamed wearing broken
shoes, admiring new and pretty
ones worn by others, shambling
along at school, hoping no one might
notice. Even my lunches were so
different; no one else had sardine
and onion sandwiches, little wonder
I was given the luxury of wide berth
while I craved companionship. No
toys like other children, no ice skates
no bicycle, no hope to be just like
the others. Now, I understand that
poverty is recognized when Internet
costs are too dear, when a family
drives only one vehicle, when flat
screen televisions strain the family
budget and membership in sports
clubs equate with high fees and
disappointed youth finding their
own solutions in the comfort of gangs
drugs and opting out of school. I
chose not to opt out, instead I was
ordered to, so I could work and help
support the family's bare-bones
requirements of shelter and food.

The Dilemma

My thoughts will remain
securely in my head, I may gain
impressions but they are not to
be shared among those whose
endurance to life I assess and
my friend, you look exhausted by
life, your face is drawn and
sallow, your hair more meagre
and white than when last we met
so it is well that we discuss
neutral matters that concern us
and of which we read in the news
open subjects to anyone who 
cares to care. Your very tone 
is fatigued though that too I 
will note but not make mention
of. Nor will I ask after your
aged mother, let alone the new
condition of your beloved pet
for there are times when the
wish to share is there and when
it is absent. In your face and your
manner there is a declaration of
defeat, despite that you suddenly
raise your head and defiantly
state: 'one day follows another
and one must cope', and I nod.