lost voice weekend

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Exhaustion?
A sneaky virus on yet another train?
A cold morning run, who knows.
Silence overtakes me;
A sign.

Patience, patience,

Unexpected space
among commitments,
parting a to-do list thicket.
Stillness;
the beech trees hold their
breath too.

Patience dans l’azur.

Aside from life,
days slide into blur.
Voiceless, those with me
whisper back.

Chaque atôme de silence

I give into mystery,
tumble into poetry.

Est la chance d’un fruit mûr.

Wait.

Note: The lines in italics are taken from ‘Palme’ by Paul Valéry,

found poem – a stroll in Brussels, autumn 2015

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To our heroes.

The unicorn doesn’t take the bus.
It flies from star to star.
Do the same.
Love life.  And smile.

On May 14th 2009, a young sequoia
from the family garden
dead from an unknown disease
is cut down.

May it please the One who Is to
open the human heart to the
full measure of all life.

A thunderous landing
manifests its weight for a final time
as it falls
prostrate.

To enter into the unknown
involves a willingness
to fully experience and study things we don’t understand
and to embrace that lack of understanding.

I have a dream.
Restoration of networks
of energy and public illumination.

Do you?

Sources:  War memorial near Les Etangs d’Ixelles; sign on lamp-post near Ixelles; description, Royal Museum of Fine Arts; engraving, Marguerite Yourcenar Park; book in museum gift shop; advertisement; street sign; advertisement.

All translations mine.

happy birthday extraplorer

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Well!  Having been away for a week or so with work, I peeked in on extraplorer today and guess what? A trophy was there to say ‘happy one year anniversary’ to extraplorer blog.  And of course it put me in reflective mode…

One year of extraplorer has brought so much richness to my life.  The little ‘likes’ to my poems have given me so much more confidence about my writing.  The encouragement of poet-eye-view that the possibility of posting creates has caused me to be more intentional about how I see beauty in the world – this has genuinely shaped me to ‘discover more beauty through writing’.

One sadness is not posting as often as I would like.  Today I was thinking about it and wondering if it is even OK to have a blog if your posts are not super-frequent.  The image that came to mind was one of the sea… there are swells and sets and gaps between sets and choppy little waves, and flat calms, but no one says that we should not bother having a sea because it is not consistent.  I think this image is going to help me be more peaceful about posting when I can, and not worrying when I can’t.  This is especially important for me this year of finishing an academic book project, developing my other daily work, often involving traveling overseas, and continuing to pioneer some unique projects (as well as hoping to find love…).

One thing that I sometimes wonder about is whether extraplorer should grow to be about creative living, as well as just my own creative work.  I am not sure?  I am a bit concerned that things which are about ‘how to’ can become restrictive… I like mystery, and don’t want to flatten out the mystery of living too much.  Still not sure…

My hopes for this coming year are to continue to discover even more beauty through writing, to have a poem published, to write more poetry based in the workplace, and to generally explore some of the themes I have already been looking at like ‘things I want to tell my children but might forget’.  I want to create more found poetry in different ways and to just daydream and see what happens.

I want to keep on extraploring…

And if I loved forty

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And if I loved forty,
it would be for the sweet joy
of confidence in a room.

And if I loved forty,
it would be that I
knew my place
– inside out.

And if I loved forty,
it would find me able
to sit awhile with someone sad
and mourn.

And if I loved forty,
it would be to see dear friends children
grow old enough to make me
a cup of tea.

And if I loved forty,
I would embrace quiet,
evenings by myself
a blessing of solitude.

And if I loved forty,
it would be for long views still
of growing, and of grandeur.

And if I loved forty,
it would be for patience,
and for knowing
that all things are made new.

And if I loved forty,
my friends too would be
grown and worn into
comfortable grooves of
loving kindness.

And if I loved forty,
I would be wise.

moonlight conker

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In the blackness
scuff leaves searching
for autumn treasure,
crouch down
nearer to the ground.
(Risk of being run over.)
Is that a gleam
of brown sheen?
Tipsy with delight,
I dart and seize
a conker.

Note to poem: As a child, conkers were highly prized.  The nearest chestnut tree to our school was inevitably frequented by children who lived nearby, leaving me and my brothers with a much-diminished chance of finding our own unblemished fruit. As an adult, I live near a horse-chestnut tree myself and still feel the wonder of a continual abundance of conkers at all times of day, but especially night.