Timekeeper

Words for a mother who has passed.
—

Buoyant ships, steady and slow,
Moments where time seems to suspend,
Yet the journey always continues.

Grandkids, like time itself—
Always enough in the moment,
But never enough to fill a lifetime.

Blue Jays on a summer afternoon,
The crack of a bat echoes,
Always waiting for the season
That might come again.

Mustard, bright and simple,
Her joy in every bite,
A small piece of her passed down.

And the Browns—
Through all the seasons,
Her loyalty never wavered,
Faithful till the end.

Autumn Echoes

A remix.
—

In the autumn breeze, the shadows fall,
Fallen leaves whisper stories, echoing our call.
All the leaves are brown, painting the ground,
Memories of summer, lost and never found.

Fallen leaves, drifting down,
In a world of silence, where hope feels drowned.
But the colors fade, yet they hold on tight,
Through the darkest nights, we’ll find our light.

Walking through the remnants, the chill in the air,
Dreams once vibrant, now a fading flare.
All the leaves are brown, but our hearts remain,
In the dance of shadows, we embrace the pain.

Fallen leaves, drifting down,
In a world of silence, where hope feels drowned.
But the colors fade, yet they hold on tight,
Through the darkest nights, we’ll find our light.

So let the leaves fall, let the seasons change,
Through the storms and silence, love won’t feel strange.
We’ll rise from the ashes, in the colors we’ve worn,
For every end is just a place to be reborn.

Fallen leaves, drifting down,
In this autumn’s heartbeat, we’ll never drown.
All the leaves are brown, but we’ll stand our ground,
In this endless cycle, together we’re found.

Thanks to ChatGPT for remixing The Mamas & The Papas – California Dreamin' with Billy Talent – Fallen Leaves

For Community

A treatise on communities of identity, faith, and place.
—

For, Family, and Friends:
Who shape our identity,
Individual and collective;

For, Faith and Spirituality:
Both named and un-named,
Whose communal values
Draw us closer together;

And, for Place:
The lands that provide sustenance,
The hands which support,
And, the shared tables
Around which we gather.

Let us be grateful,
For we have community:
Identity,
Faith, and Place;

And be thankful,
We can come together,
To share in community as one.



These words, which articulate the essence of what ties us all together, were recited at my wedding (or some version of them). Without knowing it, I crafted the basis for this poem years before the syllables would be uttered from my mouth during an annual solo trek to Circumnavigate Lake Fanshawe.