I did not particularily enjoy poetry in high school. Nor did I appreciate poems once I joined the workforce as a young fella. In fact, for most of my adult life I've had very little use for poetry of any sort.
It has only been in recent years that I've been drawn more powerfully toward this amazing art form. I am no poet, trust me. Yet I do have a passion for words though and sometimes that spills out of me in the form of poetry.
Words is the poem here on the right. This poem was inspired after I found myself complaining about something that I really had no business complaining about. I went for a late evening walk and it began to form in my brain. I ignored it and went to bed. Toss, turn, turn and toss. It wouldn't be ignored so I got out of bed and wrote it down.
The poem called See Everything, See Nothing began to germinate in my mind as I was standing one day waiting for the bus. I decided to wait standing as still as possible, like a standing mediation of sorts. I began to observe the trees. Then one single tree. I noticed how it stood still, strong and planted but that its branches and leaves moved with the wind. It begins...
You will be there when you get there
In the meantime, be here.
I’ve been thinking about gratitude recently. Developing an attitude of gratitude has been my bedrock, my foundation.
My gratitude is based in love. Love is at my core and love binds all good phenomena together. Complaining is more difficult when I stay in gratitude. More here.
There has been much in the news recently about various acts of anger, hatred, and outright cruelty. In the news today was a report about a tragic event in Barcelona where 12 or more people died after being struck by a van. Indications are that it was intentional.
I was riding the skytrain today and my hand began to perspire on the handrail. It was a hot day and unavoidable yet it got me thinking. I was sweating onto this pole that has been held by many thousands, if not millions, of people before me. I don't know Skytrain's sanitation policy but I doubt the handrails get sterilized on a regular basis. So my sweat, my dna, was mixing with all those that preceded me. And it will mix with those that follow me and hold that rail. Our dna will mix, there is no escape. Hence this poem, called No Escape.
Let there be peace in the world.
The Outward Bound poem shown here on the left was written about my 2005 excursion into the mountains of beautiful British Columbia Canada. I will write the full story one day and in the meantime, I offer this poem as a placeholder.
Love. We all love love. We love love stories. This poem has its genesis on the massage table. Yes, I was having a lovely massage and these words began gurgling up in my mind. A bit of a funny story really. I had taken transit that day to go downtown Vancouver for my massage. After my massage, I just HAD to begin writing and didn't have anything to capture ideas except my iPhone, so it became my instrument. Riding skytrain, words and revisions were flowing in effortlessly. I exited at my stop and waited for the bus to take me home as I wrote some more. I continued to write as I climbed aboard the bus and headed home. At some point I looked up from my iPhone and realized that I didnt' know where I was! First of all, I had taken the wrong bus, and second, I stayed on it for way too long! Long story short, I eventually made it home thanks to my lovely wife. And, I had birthed a shiny new poem in the process. It is called Love Is, and I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know your thoughts.
Ode to the Wind, as shown on your right, was written one windy afternoon when the trees were particularily vocal for me. I started thinking about the wind and how she travels freely around our magnificant globe. Then I began to imagine being picked up by the wind where I would travel effortlessly everywhere she went. Invisible yet impossible to ignore.
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