A poem for Truth and Reconciliation Day.
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Broken generations,
We hear yesterday’s lost children weeping,
Embrace today’s children,
Reach to tomorrow’s children
With our torn hearts.
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I gratefully acknowledge that I live and work in the unceded, traditional territory of the Secwepemc people.
Outside the window
new green
We walk by in masks
waiting for vaccine
Spring is a time
for hope
Another year on a
slippery slope.
Daffodils bursting
from the soil
Politics and a pandemic
embroiled
Breathe.
Take care.
We’re almost
there.
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NaPoWriMo Day 22 A little contrast between the hope of spring and the stress of rising numbers of infected folks, including a friend.
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Oh my!
Blue sky!
If only the promises could be true
that this is is just a preview.
Has spring finally arrived?
Tonight’s sunset
is a thin strip of pink ribbon
in a vast blue sky
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One wispy cloud
reflects the fading sun:
a sliver of bright beauty
to stab devouring darkness.
such a long time
in the making.
planned so long ago.
waiting.
injury
healing
tiny steps
tiny steps
tiny steps
make the journey
so
long
but here we are at
the
end.
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August 2018 Nikolette Jones and I bantered out the plans for 3 Nikki Knox stories that I would write by August 2019. Unfortunately, August 28 I suffered a brain injury that meant time off work, therapy, and a long road of recovery. I have been dabbling for 2 years with the 4th book, and it is FINALLY finished! It is two years late, but it’s here at last! Nikolette is busy with the art and there will be a new, lovely Nikki Knox 4 book compilation out in the next few months! Yay! It’s so good to have a brain that’s working again.
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What an unexpected gift
revealed by retreating snow:
crocuses planted so long ago
Finally bloom when w most need
symbols of hope.
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(True story. I planted a couple of dozen crocuses into the front lawn in the early 2000s when we first bought this house. The bloomed on their own for three or four years before they stopped – likely victims of hubby’s herbicide. Suddenly, after so many years, 2 popped up this year!)
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There on the hillside
A puddle of brilliant light
Sun broken through clouds
Small victory
multiplied.
Big tasks
divided
into
parts
so
small–
how could I not succeed?
Deadlines
focus goals.
Day by day,
Chew each bite thoroughly.
Done!
Launch hope with a key stroke.
Completion is victory enough,
but still…
Fingers crossed.
Here is the place,
soft amber light
warm hands
cool breeze.
Here is the circle,
feel the connection
crackling completeness
arms tight,
hearts warm.
Here is love,
wrapped around you,
holding you up,
sending you strength.
Here is peace.
Here is hope.
Here is now.
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For Londa.
Here is the true thing, my children.
It is dark outside.
There are beasts with teeth and claws,
prepared to rip and tear you into tiny bits.
Oh, yes, my children,
it is dark outside.
You must beware.
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But come, my children,
here is another true thing.
There is light outside.
It glows from windows and from hearts;
it pulls what’s apart, together, wrapping gleaming strands
of hope, that shimmer if you look just so.
See?
There in your heart: a star!
Dare, my children, to shine.
It is dark outside.
You must
Be light.
Shawn L. Bird 