Amidst so many moments of sadness
there are jewels of joy
intense deep love, immediacy
eye contact -
and then stillness.
Red cardinals
painted with morning sunshine,
living in a lakeside fairytale.
Here we are for a while,
beside our families
dancing in and out of sadness
flowing in and out of bliss.
Maybe not all stories have happy endings?
Perhaps all stories have happy endings?
grey days
driving south through rain and smog
sitting between two boys,
a warm wind and a sleeping beauty.
Staring in the mirror,
connecting with the soft blue eyes of a papa.
In my heart we are a family,
lost in this wide open flat space.
Missing the cedars,
loving each other.
A few moments to myself,
staring at an inverted horizon across the lake.
Upside down on the dock,
new perspectives,
but the truth is still the same.
Living beside this lake for a while,
our simple life fits this place.
Endless open space for the warm wind to blow,
and calm waters shelter us from stormy minds:
as we paddle our canoe.
Hand creases.
Foot prints.
Molded forever in black paint
stored with birch bark
signed with the initials of a baby.
F.R.E.
The trilliums are gone,
another cycle goes round
another year of life and death on the forest floor.
The innocent beauty of death
stares at me through the eyes of the forest,
year after year.
Yet, nothing prepares us for the death of a child.
Old friends gather,
memories of half a lifetime.
I am amazed, yet again,
by the ability for one short life to inspire love,
to bring out the best in people.
Near and far.
Without a word,
without knowing,
barely two months from the womb,
this son of mine is teaching us how to live.
Sitting again, wrapped in a koala bear
breathing heavily on my chest.
Bodies touch.
I kiss his sweet forehead
and watch again as little Finn finds his way to sleep.
with lv.
Sarah (Scotty, Finn and Chinook too)
