Spring Victory

Sliver of a moon and a few white clouds
in a vast blue sky
In the warm sunlight, swallows returning
kiss the moon
in sweet loose formations
flowing onward together
in the diamond V of Springs arrival

How much space there is in the world!
My heart leaps,
after a bleak, anguished day,
with acrobatics at the water’s edge
Seagulls screech as
city dwellers, magnolia
blossoms, and all of life unfolds,
into unspoiled wholeness

I am the swallows
and the soft puffs of white,
the ageless blue,
the wisely patient trees and fragrant breeze
of tender flesh awakening

Vancouver, March 13, 2005


We are the tribe that is running
to the four corners and the centre
to bring together the pieces
that will mend a broken world

We are the tribe that is restless
Unceasingly we make the journey
Outward and inward
Attaining, only to surrender
In the name of all that is holy

We are a tribe without a country
because we live on blessed land
beneath the circle of Heaven
And the seeds of our labour
bear a honey-sweet fruit

Oh, we have been forgotten
the glory gone to others
who shrewdly amass
their wealth and power

They sit in sumptuous homes
feasting and cavorting
(on the carcass of suffering)
and generally amusing themselves

But quietly the tribe is gathering
the hard-earned wisdom
of over two-hundred thousand years
And its light is rising
Like a mighty wave

March 27th 2005.

My love

my love
and wanes,
like the moon
and still endures,
is eternal,
is yours,
is part of all of us,
is you and me
through no harmony,
through touch and kiss,
through what is amiss
oh, know this
my love endures
and waxes
and wanes,
like the

1980’s, Lund, BC.


When someone asks a question
who sees the mountain,
the journey it took to get there?
And who feels the heart asking,
blood rushing through veins,
the sentiments synthesising into this moment,
the clarity that allows one to ask?

Who is truly awake to the question?
And who is picking up their own canteen,
asking how will I get to my destination?
Who stands at the crossroads of every conversation?
waiting to see which way to go?

January, 2010.


When Earl Birney looked across the night
to gentle peaks and soft, slumbering roads
little beacons of light, upholding the horizon,
a dragon waiting at the city entrance
roared across the Lion’s Gate
In the rush of springs
the pulse of wilderness

I am searching now for the vision that stirred him
his homage to a fleeting moment
quietly unsettling and awesome to behold
Was the world more wholesome then?
Was it wiser in its dreams?

I wish I had walked that trail
to meet him sitting there
Amidst the boughs of fir and sacred cedars,
Under starlight and a waxing moon
composing a private revelation
For generations yet unborn

Vancouver, December 19, 2007

Land and Sea

I put it under my arm
to transport like a painting
that scene of water
luminous blue
with small round islands on the horizon
when we were young
and sitting on those bluffs, on our blanket
in the purple haze of sunset
Imagining a house to live in with that view

It showed up again
in all its hypnopompic glory
in a moment between waking and dreaming
and I reveled in the exaltation of that image
straddled both worlds as I pulled myself awake
This life is a dream of the worlds we make

Begun August, 2003, Annapolis, MD
Finished April 18, 2014, Vancouver, BC

In the Living

This afternoon, sitting on the bus,
passing Pacific Spirit Park
I saw my life reflected
in the energies of the land
Being sustained by a vital force of nature
wild and fluid
full of mysteries, deep secrets
told only to the soul
in moments of astonished wonder

Some deep telling of Being
that is the one true marker
of all that I have lived

And in this moment
passing this marker
I look back on life and love
and all that has shaped me
and through it all
runs this same thread, this
river of all that is
passing, passing
living, living
Towards home

Like some ancient traveler
I have made my way
through the paths of
the heart and the mind
to find this one place
that has always waited to receive me.

Tonight I will set a place for myself
to be an honoured guest
Here for just a brief moment in time
in the living.

Vancouver, March 17th, 2000

In no time

My heart
is beating for you

like a horse galloping

and every sensation
joins now
to transcend

a past and future waiting

This moment
is all I have

This now
without counting

just the beating of my heart

in this body
which loves you
which loves the world

and knows not where
this life has sprung from.

Sept 1996.

In Between

Lying here on the floor
sunlight streaming through the window
my arm rests against wood…
a chair leg strangely accommodating

the breeze is soft…
everything is very calm…
this day will go on forever

Outside, Nature is Mother,
Sky is blue, insects are busy,
flowers are pollinating their last gasp
Clear, warm air
Life is unfolding its seasons
Birdsong is everywhere

While deep within the cycle
Arguelles once wrote
Everything has a mother…
The mother of all things is unborn space.

Between heaven and earth,
before time whisks me forward
in its vital, hungry claws
my breath flows outward
into this moment where
the breeze is soft
everything is very calm
and this day will go on forever