Tuesday, May 19, 2015

the grotto

of course i am the water
how did i miss
that i flow gently over the seabed
dotted with tiny flowers pink and purple
how far away i hear a bird?
through the sound of the sea
swimming in me
are creatures i have never seen
just felt when passing through
when i look up
bluegreen algae my lashes
i see you on the distant shore
mirroring your face
unaware that it is me
nothing do we know
me the sea

it's if i was a young girl that lives in the forest

Thursday, May 7, 2015

Mourning Cloaks

The Naked Eye
Like all living creatures, I had a mother and father; but I never knew them. I know that they met each other last summer; for several days they flew side by side and together sipped from the same flowers. Then for several hours they united. During this union my father pressed the tip of his belly against my mother; it is in this way he was able to slip tiny grains into her body, grains so small no person could see them with his naked eye.
—Animals and Their Families: The Butterfly
In a book by Martha Baillie
I wish i would have written it....
on that day

when i wrote that slightly perverted poem
Martha describes it more with the softness i felt when laying beside them, witnessing such wonder, to me she also captures the slight feeling of being lost... which i felt on that day, when i was aching for simple loving.

Sunday, May 3, 2015

covered up in purple

His gaze straight ahead.
Batholith tattoos.
The green speculum showing.
A small crevice.
Suddenly the front wheels of the jeep sink in.
 After bouncing through the desert,
 the ground littered with dense tufts of grass,
first looking out over the land from a high ridge. 
up to the axles in mud.
In that instant he remembered;
the slivers being pulled out of festering skin.
A baby? 
A baby? they ask
in surprise.
The pendulum slowly swinging.
A real life, soft, pink, gurgling, baby in a cradle!?
The laughter, the pure joy.
Everything coming together.
 An abbreviation of events.
 Infinite softness experienced.

Monday, April 20, 2015


i tremble
 and wish to flutter
 to live lightly
spread my wings and fly
leave it all behind
today i cry
i watched two Mourning Cloaks have sex
i laid in the gravel beside them 
for an hour
eventually i left
they did not

Sunday, April 19, 2015


Recently, in the last year maybe, i have felt more concerned about our planet and it's inhabitants.

Now, the 17th of April 2015,  Mary and i climbed up Kusawa ridge. We knew what we were looking for, but didn't know if we would find it, we were open to the possibility that we were too early. Yet there was no doubt in our mind that the douglasias would bloom again. When not that day they would this month be there blooming.
Somehow we were rewarded with the best spectacle of douglasias ever. From the moment we stepped onto the ridge till we reached the snowfields, the ground was dotted with pink. At times having to watch our step, as not to step on them.

When you consider the last photo, the condition we were hiking in, to me it is a miracle in the biggest essence of the word, that such phenomena exists.

And that this is not one unique, single mountain ridge with such beauty, i am sure there are many many more.

Truly we have nothing to worry about, when such inundated glory still takes place every single moment unconcerned with what do or don't, we are not so important.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

je t'aime

 of course i went back
 always always i will go back
 i paint like crazy
blood red
the crocuses did bloom
just not were i looked
dancing bare feet on bare rock
my true love is the batholith
 the deep deep batholith
the granite
the veins of shale
the porcupine was gone 
an empty nest
the raven never came

for how long will i crack open?

Monday, April 13, 2015


It is lovely to live where i live, and maybe i should write again like i used to, about my excitement of the gentleness of my wandering in the woods. Today extra sensual,  the softness of early spring, i followed a warm gully ( alas no crocuses)  but came out by a small cave, and peeking in,  yes a porcupine. I didn't see a lot of activity around the cave, like a trail leading into it, or trees being gnawed. Was this her winter den? Or was she or he just hiding from me. I do think they could live in such dens in winter. Porcupines do not really hibernate. She moved slightly, not sleeping. Will she have a young in there?  I will visit the place again, when i can find it. I did NOT make note of my exact location, on purpose, i feared i would go see her everyday if i had. 5 km away i did come upon this totally stripped tree, i read porcupines like to eat it all once they find a good food source. I suspect rabbits having eaten the bark of this tree, yet i had never seen them doing such a thorough job. All i could think  was whoever it was, they were inspired by Brian @Talk from the Timber.