early morning sky (fisherman’s peace)

72

feet crackle through the dry brush of a left over winter foliage, brown and dead.

the coolness from the night’s starshine lingered.

up on the horizon the sun breaks,

peaking through the grey overcast of  an early morning sky.

twenty feet ahead lies a clearing,

set the tackle box down,

and seek the favourite lure, set the hook –

casting back and casting out,

soaring  through the air

the bait hits the water and sinks down below the surface

disrupting  the mirrored stillness –

the ripples traveling closer to where you stand

this is the place where one comes to think

this is the place where problems find their answers

this is the place where you can hear the silence that surrounds

and this is the place where you can come to restore

to catch or not to catch, really doesn’t matter

look  upon the trees on the distant shore

and find the birds singing  their midday song.

casting back and casting out,

what have you found?

just an early spring days sun,  warm and welcoming

the bait hits the water and sinks down below the surface

disrupting  the mirrored stillness –

the ripples traveling  closer to where you stand

if one hand fishes and seeks

the other reels in

and so it goes,  to the peace that was found

a fisherman’s good-bye

feet crackling through the dry brush of a left over winter foliage,  brown and dead.

the coolness from the evening crept back in the day ,

up on the horizon,  the sun slowly disappeared.

of orange and pinkish reds,  all of an early evening sky.

 

 

 

c. 2014  bgw

 

 

quote #85

”  being lucky with all things that don’t matter + being horrible with all that does matter   =   complete emptiness  ”   – bgw  c. 2014

all to what was (a modern day’s tale)

 

the rain,  cold and heavy

soaked the hair and ran down my face.

as i walk i tug at my collar,

pulling it tighter around my neck.

a cold rain can numb a soul –

slight pause at the cross walk

i watch the colour glow of the crossing light in the grey mist surrounds

as i continue my walk past the store front windows

the coffee shoppes aroma drifts by,

the place where it all began

now finds ends the chapter,  the closing of the story.

ah! the rain,  cold and heavy

soaked the hair and ran down my face.

if there was a tear in there somewhere,

no one would have noticed it  anyway.

a looming divorce of an us,   also cold and heavy –

when we said i do,  i never imagined that one day we wouldn’t

a tale of  an unhappy coexistence,

all in a prison of unfulfilled feelings

all on a teeter totter of a day to day relationship

all built on broken dreams that once carried hope.

the rain,  cold and heavy

soaked the hair and ran down my face.

if there was a tear in there somewhere,

no one would have noticed it anyway.

the cobblestone walk gathered puddles as the lamplight shone,

turning the key and opening the wooden front door –

to what was a home –  is now an empty shell

i toss the keys onto the entry table –

a childs laugh – i wait for

a welcoming hug to wipe away the days work –  i long for

a sense of family,  i can only remember of what was.

compassion, love and the need of being needed

all wiped away by the deafening silence

the deafening silence of the emptiness

oh! did i not say that i loved you enough?

didn’t i tell you that i needed you wholly?

never did i imagine that it would come down to breaking our own hearts,

all to move on and mend them back to where pain didn’t live so rampant –

hallway walls of a faded beige,

a family room reserved just for one.

pictures of an old and faded memory,

now! a memory to be visited of an every now and again remembrance.

a looming divorce of an us,  also cold and heavy –

when we said i do,  i never imagined that one day we wouldn’t

and a tale of  an unhappy coexistence

all in a prison of unfulfilled feelings

all on a teeter totter of a day to day relationship

all built on broken dreams that once carried hope!

we all must move on

we all just move on

in the morning’s dawn

i wake

a new day is upon us all

even if i find my self without you,

im with the world and the world awaits me

to conquer,  there i will be

in a dream that whispers in my ear

as i watch the colour glow of the crossing light in the grey mist

i continue my walk past the store front windows

the coffee shoppe aroma drifts by

the place where it all began,  now ends the chapter

the rain,  cold and heavy

soaked the hair and ran down my face

as i walk i tug at my collar,

pulling it tighter around my neck.

a cold rain can numb a soul

 

 

c. 2014 bgw

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

everyday i find myself missing you

 

how many times have i tried?

to get you out of my mind?

to be greeted by maybe and only to be greeting everyday without  

just as  a striking match flickers the flame

finding all that breathes and all that crosses

forces back all that was once was – all that once was

 

you are the passion of my life,

you are the pictures behind the words

the sunshine’s warmth,  the summer’s breeze,  autumn’s colours and a falling snow’s silence

the one and only to break down these walls that kept all hidden

and found all that was and all that  was pained

you are the passion of my life

 

to be without is to be haunting – everyday

and to be with is to be living – thankful for every second

i can be going through the daily motions

and i can find all that breathes and all that crosses

forces back all that was once was – all that once was

 

all that once was and all that is!

and all that lives inside this seeking heart!

keeps it all thriving,

to be fooled and to give in to  the desire

a new days promise comes with each passing day

where can i find you, to you,  my lady guinevere

 

how many times have i tried?

to get you out of my mind?    i can not.

i am only to be greeted everyday without?

just as  a striking match flickers the flame

finding all that breathes and all that crosses

forces back all that was once was – all that once was

 

 

c.  2014  bgw

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and then the farm finds the family

 

…..the farm was nestled nicely inside a valley of two rolling hills.  there,  a creek wound itself through the fields of overgrown grasses and pastures that eventually feed to a large fishing pond.  there, by the gravel drive lined with aged old maples,  lead  you to the two story white wooded siding home that housed my grandparents for over fifty years now.  on the opposite side was my grandfathers poll barn where he worked on the farming equipment and piled up auto engine side projects that always kept him busy.  further down past the yard,  my grandmother works on a huge homegrown garden that fed many sunday evening family meals.  and of course found on the same acreage,  about a half mile away was the highlight of the farm.  the  dairy cow barn.  the farm was never a big operation.  just a business to sell dairy and homemade goods to  the locals and travelers passing through   //   granddad never kept more than ten cows at a time.  now,  with his health and older age,  that number dwindled down to just two.  i think it was my grandfathers dream to start a multi-generational farm,  but it just tuned out to be that.  a dream.   my dad grew up there,  but never got into the farming.  instead he grew out of the farm and settled for the white picket fence home in town and became an independent architect. that left my mom and i practically living on that farm by the day and going home at night to try to catch my father between work and sleep.   //   now, the winter was dying,  which ment the farm was awakening.  the brownish green grass was starting to peek through the melting snow and the morning chill wasn’t as bitter. with each passing day the grass became greener and the warmer spring air found the cows grazing the grass.  once in a while would you find one of the black and white holsteins wading in the ponds edge catching a cool drink of water.  the pasture was growing taller and the spring buds became bigger and opened up to the warmer air to be the leaves of  summer shade.  i can always remember as if was yesterday taking my school crush down along the side of the creek till we met the shade of the willow.  there we studied,  laughed and held each other in each others arms.  often we found ourselves in a deep nervous embrace, kissing the minutes away.  the shade of the elm dancing between the sun rays blocked the rest of the world to ours.  a summers love bloomed in the birth of spring and somehow stayed strong through the years and never even blinked when we said our “i do’s”.  and the initials inside the heart in the bark born in  the year we met,  will still be there when we pass.    //   the april showers lingered long into may,  but the wildflower field didn’t seem to mind as it showed summer colours and sought the dance of the bees.  hiking through the fields,  a summer’s love found in pause in pure seclusion.  the birds sing along in the distant trees and the blue sky washes in with the dancing clouds of imaginary shapes.  the kite flys above the world and looks down in a carefree way.  and there we were.  we were working  in a summers heat,  beading sweat trickling down the foreheads as we helped in the dairy barn and tended to the cows.  it always a family tradition of summertime production of products for the farmers market.  granddad usually let me help him with the milking of the cows and my brother transported the milk to my grandmother and mom where they pasteurize the dairy into the different products,  bottle and package. and in turn my father designing the packages and labels and eventually into storage for the next saturday market.  a family operation only seen in season.   //   a summer’s sun closes the day,  bringing night closer to the farm.  the locus’ sing their nightsong while the family sits on the porch,  brushing away the dirt from their brow.   a hard days work rewarded with relaxation,  a glass of iced tea and family laughter. the smell of dinner seeped through the screen door.  grandma and  mom usually out did  themselves on a sunday night supper.  a family feast of a roast,  skin on mashed potatoes,  freshly picked garden green beans, homemade rolls, a side salad and of course fresh milk –  right from the dairy cows that we gathered that morning.   it was nice being on a that farm.  one got use to the hard work and the getting up every summer morning at four a.m., but it took years to do so.   //    a grandfathers pipe tobacco fills the senses,  and a fishing lure hits the water.  the sun sets below the treeline.  and now my grandchild tugs at my pant leg ,  desiring the knowledge of the bait,  and we wait.  a fish bites and a child laughs in excitement.    the sunset left a pink and  peach coloured horizon.   cattail gently peek out of the ponds edge and the evening welcomes the star filled darkening sky.  the late summers air turns cool and gives way to autumn’s wood fire warmth.  green leaf trees on the hills explodes in brightly coloured oranges, reds and yellows.  slowly,  one by one,  each one falls down in a cold breeze down the gravel drive. good bye leaf,  we will see you next season.  naked branches  say good bye and frowns upon another winters coat of snow all in a cold wind freeze.  the slumber of the farm was welcoming after a busy season,  but the quietness of a  long cold hibernation winter was always sad.  an empty pasture,  a frozen pond.  the chimney smoke slowly faded into the winter nights sky and the deer quickly pass through the open fields of the farm.   //   the farm was nestled nicely inside a valley of two rolling hills.  there a creek wound itself through the fields of overgrown grasses and pastures that eventually feed to a large fishing pond.  and then, the farm finds the family.  there, by the gravel drive lined with aged old maples,  lead  you to the two story white wooded siding housed the home of grandparents for over a hundred years now…..

 

 

c 2013,  2014  bgw