Life Is An Adventure

Reading and viewing other contributors to this site, I am sometimes inspired to dig out old poems among my papers. It’s a challenge when one can’t remember the titles. 😂🤣
This is definitely a ‘rustic cabin’ and it is a picture of a much younger me taken in the late 1970s or early 1980s when I was in my late twenties, early thirties. My husband was the portrait photographer.

Finding Heidi

Finding Heidi
Heidi’s psyche lives 1 degree south of Moosonee,
with periodic tropical retreats.
She is a cycle of seasons
and continuously changing weather patterns.
You need psychic satellites to predict what’s next,
and even then…she’s suddenly living elsewhere.
Heidi’s cats live in and around her.
As in ancient Egypt, she finds God in them,
but by another definitive name.
They form a sacred society, and
all purr prayers for peace in unison.
The peace of loving care is catnip to their souls.
Occasional sharp scratches surprise
the uninitiated of this other-world.
Even those who’ve been blessed
by the scent of their cat charms
feel their claws now and then.
Sometimes I find Heidi in her temple,
sometimes a stranger dwells there.
Heidi holds secrets so secret—
she’s hidden them from herself.
February, 1999

Creating Carla

Creating Carla
Carla paints her life
with splashes of bright colour
and daubs of dark and somber tones.
One is evoked to chuckles and sighs
seeing the methods and materials
she uses to express her own chiaroscuro.
She tests her strong courage day by day,
revealing herself in a myriad ways—
a vast collage of multiple images
positioned with dramatic flair.
Across her canvas, here and there,
are layer upon layer of secret strokes
hidden so deep
only archeological digs would find them.
Every brush stroke is a story told
of battles and skirmishes won or lost.
Does Carla see in her life’s artistry
that she’s the creator of it all?
February, 1999 revised April, 2004, January, 2006

Seeing Jenny by the Sea

Seeing Jenny by the Sea
Jenny gathers sea shells on victory’s shore
and sings sweet songs of simple joys
the mermaids taught her long ago.
These are her halcyon days
dressed by soft winds and bright blue skies.
Gone is the desperate rage of battling storms
conjured to test her inmost strength.
Now she happily laughs, content and free,
and quietly slips into Love’s shining sea.
February, 1999