I do not fear this peace I'm
free to call my own nor flee the
space I have to roam alone... this
blue, blue night - Moon's brightest
bright - marks shadows left by some
pure light as though in day between
dark trees. With quiet ease I find my way.
Each step my shadow lengthens slight
as moon dog walks me home tonight.
Rojan Zét
A community of artists living and working on Vancouver Island, British Columbia, Canada
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
New Beginnings
touch builds momentum in the bloodstream
accumulates
like silt in the delta
layers of history
greening the edge of our knowing
we reassemble the edifice of the past
as if there will be a chance of salvage
there will not, we sense the tragedy
yet some new beauty grows
rooting us in this time, this place
completing the circuit of earth and stars
our lives no longer defined by birth or intention
but by willingness to inhabit this moment
we will grind the old stones into pigment
and paint our skins with glyphs of pleasure
we will dance around our fire
and invite the hungry ghosts
to sup at our feast
for there is room now in this new place
and bounty
this is what I want:
to lie in the sun
to feel heat in my bones
to be gathered like brush
and rekindled
for you to trace your story with tongues of flame
to find my story in the calligraphy of curves and hollows
paper held over fire
a hidden language emerging
from the alchemy of trust
~ Yvonne MacKenzie
accumulates
like silt in the delta
layers of history
greening the edge of our knowing
we reassemble the edifice of the past
as if there will be a chance of salvage
there will not, we sense the tragedy
yet some new beauty grows
rooting us in this time, this place
completing the circuit of earth and stars
our lives no longer defined by birth or intention
but by willingness to inhabit this moment
we will grind the old stones into pigment
and paint our skins with glyphs of pleasure
we will dance around our fire
and invite the hungry ghosts
to sup at our feast
for there is room now in this new place
and bounty
this is what I want:
to lie in the sun
to feel heat in my bones
to be gathered like brush
and rekindled
for you to trace your story with tongues of flame
to find my story in the calligraphy of curves and hollows
paper held over fire
a hidden language emerging
from the alchemy of trust
~ Yvonne MacKenzie
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Tyeshia Jones 1992 - 2011
We returned Tyeshia today - back to the womb,
said goodbye, wept light-drops falling from
our eyes, lowered her to the tomb under
fading skies no more the same.
Glistening nature - alive to every step, each note
kept time. Buds on trees, ravens calling and
tears still falling, hundreds followed down the
road, a ringing bell with souls still singing.
We opened up the earth - Mother took her back again
her voice now snuffed, a candle cold not even smoking,
without light and no more joking, just the sound of
thought-provoking silence and some choking.
Asking why - what joy, to take from such short life and
life so taken, this girl daughter, sister, cousin, niece,
or neighbour, maybe someone's girlfriend, angel, baby, a
brief history at its end, now memory, our minds shaken.
We returned Tyeshia today - back to the womb, bid
farewell and wept, swept the pain of light-drops falling
from our eyes again, lowered beneath dark skies still calling.
Rojan Zét
said goodbye, wept light-drops falling from
our eyes, lowered her to the tomb under
fading skies no more the same.
Glistening nature - alive to every step, each note
kept time. Buds on trees, ravens calling and
tears still falling, hundreds followed down the
road, a ringing bell with souls still singing.
We opened up the earth - Mother took her back again
her voice now snuffed, a candle cold not even smoking,
without light and no more joking, just the sound of
thought-provoking silence and some choking.
Asking why - what joy, to take from such short life and
life so taken, this girl daughter, sister, cousin, niece,
or neighbour, maybe someone's girlfriend, angel, baby, a
brief history at its end, now memory, our minds shaken.
We returned Tyeshia today - back to the womb, bid
farewell and wept, swept the pain of light-drops falling
from our eyes again, lowered beneath dark skies still calling.
Rojan Zét
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Vancouver Island Leprechauns
That little beach artist leprechaun has been at it again! I'll catch them one of these days!
Photo by Susan Miller
Photo by Susan Miller
Friday, February 4, 2011
Last Words
He was in a Bed
Outside
With the light on his Face
getting ready to cross
that River
I'll be a different Man
he had once said
and I remember smiling
while he shrugged
The light was warm
and he looked away
He looked back at me
My Light
He said
to Me
and smiled.
~Suzan Kostiuck (Steeves)
Outside
With the light on his Face
getting ready to cross
that River
I'll be a different Man
he had once said
and I remember smiling
while he shrugged
The light was warm
and he looked away
He looked back at me
My Light
He said
to Me
and smiled.
~Suzan Kostiuck (Steeves)
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
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