From Mary Oliver Everyday I look for meaning. I try to make sense of my life, of the world, of the universe. I try to believe that there is something greater out there that we struggle towards, purify ourselves for or simply keep breathing just to be acknowledged. On a Camino many walk hoping to

Today, yesterday and I know it will be the same tomorrow, the leaves aren’t sticking to the trees they are falling too many, too often, too soon. I try to hold onto summer as long as possible. The world is in the winter of its discontent. I don’t need more hate, more ugliness. I need

Pangur Ban So in peace our task we ply,Pangur Ban, my cat, and I;In our arts we find our bliss,I have mine and he has his.Practice every day has madePangur perfect in his trade;I get wisdom day and nightTurning darkness into light. — Anon., (Irish, 8th century) I lived this poem today in an odd

Batter my heart, three-person’d God By John Donne Batter my heart, three-person’d God, for youAs yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;That I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me, and bendYour force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.I, like an usurp’d town to another due,Labor to admit you, but oh, to

Yesterday I raked leaves. It was August 25. A little soon I thought for Fall. We have almost a month left of summer so why all the leaf meal? Dolly Parton died today and the world wept for a country singer with a heart of gold. It was another reminder that “tempus fugit.” I wrote

Moderation is so bland. Yes it is necessary for balance, equilibrium and sanity most of the time, however every once in a while I could do with an over abundance or a too much of a good thing day. I love this quotation from Oscar Wilde. “Everything in moderation including moderation.” Mostly I follow the

I know there is a poem out there that encourages older women to wear purple, a red hat and defiance. Well maybe they don’t actually wear defiance unless it’s a facial expression. Perhaps this is that poem. I’ve always hated it. I will never purposely wear something that identifies me with a mindset and certainly

Mending Wall Something there is that doesn’t love a wall. That sends the frozen-grown-swell under it, And spills the upper boulders in the sun…. Robert Frost I know the poem is about “Good fences making good neighbours” or maybe it’s about freedom – not building walls or fences at all. However, for me it’s about

For rainy day people, maybe, although this is not a Gordon Lightfoot song. It is a forgotten poem, now remembered, from another one of my favourite poets. I often refer to my favourites – Dylan Thomas, W. B Yeats, Gerard Manly Hopkins and e.e.cummings as wordsmiths. They hammer out the most delicate poetry from the