Tag Archives: Nature

THE FARM, THE RANCH AND THE NEED FOR GOD

THE FARM, THE RANCH
AND THE NEED FOR GOD

Who pray to when the rains don’t come
who forget to thank when they do

Who curse when the John Deere breaks
and the cow jumps over the moon
(by the moon of course I mean
the fence to the alfalfa field)

Who in the long nights pondering
under the stars too cold to be suns
a word big enough for big

ON THE OTHER HAND

ON THE OTHER HAND

In Haifa
we visited a home
with original paintings by Chagall
(You know how he can always
make you feel like you can fly)
and a bomb shelter
under the stairs

Stopped at a wall by a bus stop
with one stone for each child
killed in the explosion

And looked down on the harbor
across the order and beauty
of the gardens of the Bahai

Looked out across the water
to Lebanon where the last
rockets flew

WAKE TURBULENCE

WAKE TURBULENCE

Deep in the night the great horned owl
strokes silence with silence

If you land a small plane behind a 747
(Don’t land a small plane behind a 747)
If you land a small plane behing a 747
the invisible vortex from its wingtips
can toss you back into the air
or slap you hard into
the ground

Behind the great owl
the softness of its passing hangs in the air

INDIAN RIVER, ONTARIO 2004

INDIAN RIVER, ONTARIO 2004

Above waterfall
In circle of highest pine
green showers down

By the waterfall
body rests in hammock
cells rush to the sea

Below waterfall
power beyond soap and rub
washes off city

Lying by the bank
trees holding blue hammock
lift it to the sky

Indian River
Great Blue Heron stands
wise Tibetan monk

A PRAIRIE VILLANELLE

A PRAIRIE VILLANELLE

If prairie wheels again had I
I’d chew the gravel and the air
with prairie roads to fly

I’d plume the earth into sky
to show that I was there
If prairie wheels I had again

Past placed where dead neighbours lie
I’d not linger, who would dare
with prairie roads to fly

Dust to dust gets in your eye
I’d look for other things to share
if prairie wheels again had I

Then greener farmyards I’d pass by
in mem-mirages free of care
with prairie roads to fly

I’d roll past all that makes you cry
afloat I sunsets clear and fair
in prairie wheels again had I
with prairie roads to fly

PINCHER CREEK ALBERTA

PINCHER CREEK ALBERTA

Mid June and Cowboy Poets back in town
voices hoarse from long winter’s silence

And a thousand and more are here to hear
for the poets have been listening all year

Listening to the cattle and the coyotes
and the Northern Lights at nights

And they have been reminded
and being reminded they remember
and remembering they come here to remind

And just listening we remember
and unwind