The love of a mother
Is like no other
Years may go by
But [her] love will not die
Tears a mother has cried
Of joy and of sorrow
With children by her side
Will have dried come tomorrow
With kids old or young
Bonds ever so strong
The love of a mother
Will last forever
There’s a certain serenity and sense of security
Sitting in the front row of a lunar spectacle
And watching it unfold as it should be
A feeling so special and absolutely unforgettable
What if the moon got stuck, forever casting shadows
Stopping todays from becoming tomorrows
Thankfully we don’t have to worry about such a thing
We can all get up early and see the sun rising
It seems like I've been here before I can't remember when But I have this funny feeling That we'll all be together again No straight lines make up my life And all my roads have bends There's no clear-cut beginnings And so far no dead-ends
From Circle, by Harry Chapin, 1982
I couldn’t believe my eyes
This trail never disappoints
Look out! my hiking mate warns
Over there, a couple of bighorns
She raises a finger and points
Even looks like this one smiles
You emerge with brand new wings
But how will you learn to fly?
You’ll know how to use these things
And soon take to the sky
Fly you will for miles and miles, nature’s wonder
Stopping here and there on colourful flowers
To collect pollen, the sole mission of a forager
Your calling for maybe a thousand hours
Day after day, all of this flying
High and far, there is no denying
Your worn and tattered wings a sure sign
That soon you’ll reach the end of the line
With the ground still frozen, those juicy earthworms are a few weeks away yet. The robins had to dine on last fall’s choke cherries that never fell off the branch. Better than nothing I guess.
A week later, there were no choke cherries to be seen on any branch in the neighbourhood.
From every angle I am the same person it’s true
Intriguing from any perspective certainly
Pointless to try and hide things from you
You can see right through me
Seems all the great lyrics
Were scripted already
With perfect melody
Poets their own worst critics
Futile words hardly melodic or romantic
What more hasn’t already been written or said
Fleeting spinning of grinding wheels inside my head
Briefly only before they call you lunatic
Thawed by the sun’s rays
The ice on the lake
Turned a dark green colour
Needed only a few days
Of winter taking a break
To reveal the grey water
Emerging from the haze
Shake, shiver and shake
Can’t help but wonder
Maybe we can find ways
For icy blue hearts to awake
And beat even stronger
Soon the wheels turn again
Splattering puddles and scattering stones
Not like those pebbles on Agawa Beach
That your feet pushed into the cool sand
Sounding like an army on the march
Their thousand heels clicking on pavement
Keeping time with the invisible drum
That beat which keeps you going
Onward, as always
