Category Archives: Poetry

You leave me…

Whites

Speechless!
What could I say that wouldn’t fall short
Of describing your true beauty, softness, and elegance
Staring longer would only draw me further away from reality
Lost in thoughts, imagining, forgetting who, what, where we are
Nevertheless, for this fleeting moment, I found myself
Searching for words to describe a feeling, but failed
Some things better remain unsaid, some words unspoken
A thought came to mind as I walked away
I just kept going quietly
We both knew
Enough said

Rising of the Night

 

SD2_ (961 of 1361)A corollary to Setting of the Sun

It was the time when night would rise from the gray waters of the [Saint-Lawrence] river.
“C’était l’heure où la nuit sortait des eaux grises du fleuve.” Jacques Poulin, Chat Sauvage

We are, well at least I am, creatures of habit. Often, if not always, we see things in the exact same way, and it would take quite a shock for us to think they could be otherwise. Such is the case with sunsets.

We have come to know and describe sunsets as an end—the end of day—likely because of the events that the term conjures, as that time of day when the sun reaches for the horizon, its light dimming, the colours of the sky changing, the night approaching. That time of day could also be know as “night rise;” we could describe dusk with reference to what the night is doing, instead of what the sun is doing…

Night Rises
Colours slowly dissolve, giving way to darkness
Creatures of the night shift about, mostly undetected
Movements become more deliberate, almost tentative
Sounds travel long distances to reach attentive ears
Stars brighten, twinkle, night visions
The black shroud wraps itself around our world
Signalling a time for sleep… Sweet dreams.

Where did I put it?

Maui (1347 of 2119)
A couple of Ruddy Turnstones at at the Keālia Pond National Wildlife Refuge, on the Hawaiian island of Maui

I first met ruddy turnstones on the coast of the Gulf of Mexico, at the entrance of the Bay of Tampa. From our very first encounter, it was impossible to forget their name (although I didn’t know the name at the time we met) because that is exactly what turnstones do: they turn stones on the beach looking for insects and other little creatures they can eat, quickly moving from one stone to the next, never staying in place for very long.

These two were enjoying the white foam on the shores of Keālia Pond on Maui.

Hey, look over here!
This one looks so familiar.
No, must be elsewhere…

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

Maui (959 of 2119)

We stood high above the clouds
Surrounded by silence
Until a soft whisper of wind
Pulled us from our reverie
Drawing attention to a scene far below
Where, at the foot of the volcano
Raindrops mixed with bright sunlight
Creating this indelible image
A soft ribbon of diaphanous colours
For a moment, if you listened closely
You could hear a familiar island refrain
Carried by the unique melodic twang
Only a tenor ukulele could make