Spring Seawall

drifting along
a beautiful
seawall on
an island,

they have
no agenda,
nor purpose.

nothing's
important
on a day 
like this.


quarried stone
holds back waves,

waves breaking
unnaturally
on hard stone.

make no mistake;
any rock weathers
on these edges.

some last longer
than others. 
 
these stones last 
longer than we do.


for us the people 
are always the story.

and here, the story 
is that the people
do not seem so 
very important.

not much going on,
no real dramas
are unfolding.


the drama here
is all unseen,
and unseeable,
or maybe 
the drama is
the landscape.
 

Grand Canal

that morning the 
north end of 
the adriatic sea,

looked like a
scene from a 
monster movie, 
after the crowd 
ran away.

venice started 
out that way, 
a barbarian army 
at the edge 
of a swamp. 

nothing much 
has changed


an awful mist 
hung over
the grand canal,

as we looked 
toward a modern 
art museum.

maybe it excited
her to support men
who might some 
day be known 
as greats.

you never know.

a carpenter 
might become 
a fisherman;

a slave might 
become a 
famous sculptor,
a plowman, a poet.


and we had faith
that sunshine
would come back.

Ancient Doorways

through those
ancient doorways

ancestral feet 
wandered in 
through those 
doors, and out.


masons built
such solid walls,

brick and mortar
last so long.

nothing is
forever, it is said.

two thousand years
those bricks 
held strong;

there's little
left of the old town;
the doorways now
are falling down.


through those
ancient doorways

ancestral feet 
wandered in 
through those 
doors, and out.



Looking Up

Looking Up

insignificant 
beside the hill,
i begin to
understand
my importance
in the scheme 
of things.

if i were to think
about my time
and the scale
of time these hills
represent,

i'd have to be 
impressed by my
time as much as
by my stature.

how important 
i am not!

i think and 
words come out, 
not always exactly
appropriate;

it can be a struggle.

layers of sand, 
turned to stone, 
containing all 
the stories 
of so many ages.

i seee it all, 
amazing, 
i am amazed.

humbling, but
i am not humiliated.
loving the chaotic beauty
of this wild place!













Black and White Valley

 some things 
 look so good 
 in colour, 

and sometimes 
greytones make 
 music forever 
in our thirsty souls.

 this land rose up,
millions of years ago.

 a glacial lake
 transformed
from solid to 
 cold water,

 and burst 
 its banks 

making a sudden
 river,

 rushing roaring
torrent nightmare

 all day long,
maybe a thousand
 years eroding

this sculpted
 river valley.

now we are 
 witness to 
the aftermath,

this sculpted
 landscape.




A Tree To Make Me Happy

here is a tree to
make me happy:

branches that 
do not meet my
expectations;

they all go their
own puzzling ways.

a pleasing chaos
reigns as branches
grow unpredictably,

following no known
patterns, growing
always beautiful.

shape and shade
encourage my
easy admiration.

(hot summer days
teach many meanings 
of oppression)

we should never
learn them all.


Kal Lake

Kal Lake

merging photos, 
makes panorama
visions like we never
saw before,

i look out at this view
i have seen every day,
and always it's seemed 
something new.

time closes in quickly,
as time seems 
to do at the end
of a long tiring day.

my time's coming soon, 
this view will be gone,
a time to just walk away
.
life brings us such views,
then makes us choose;
we turn to go 
forward each day.

Sky at Night

and when we see 
the sky as night 
comes down,

we see such light,
amazing in 
 our skies.

how can we sleep,
with colours
such as these?

then comes 
the dark,
and weary eyes
will rest.

we sleep and wake,
because we hear
small birds sing,

and then it's
daylight, ready
to enjoy
another day.

and we will wait
until the day
is gone, and we can 
see the sky again, 
amazing 
in our minds.

Red Deer River Valley

Red Deer River Valley

here was an ocean
an ancient 
shallow sea;

great creatures 
navigated there
before you and me.

archaic things
swam in sandy
bottomed shallows

sailors in ancient
places, where we'll
never go again.

buried bones
have turned
to stone

millions of years
went sliding past
it seems so long;
it goes so fast.

here are bones,
when fleshed 
and live,
swam by 
so long ago.

we see them
in museums,
learning little.