Canvas 1,260 — Planted
Love, our little garden is in — in the ground, in the rain, in the wind. Canvas 1,260 May 6, 2022 . [ 1456 ]
Tag Archive for ‘Love’
Canvas 1,259 — From the Beginning
And another little bird said, If you love and cherish children as they are, you need not fear what they will become. Canvas 1,259 May 5, 2022 . [ 1455 ]
Acorns and Oaks
I ran before five yesterday morning in a driving wind and rain. The only person I met was a very large skunk, which was crossing the road in front of me when it stopped briefly at the sound of my footsteps, then scurried on. It ran along the edge of the opposite sidewalk for a distance of about a hundred feet before taking cover in some bushes. The rain was […]
A Turn In the Dance
After a slow start, and a slow run up the hill, the body said, Alright, enough nonsense, let’s go. And so off we ran, pushing beyond the comfortable limit of breath, and then beyond again and again, finding exhilaration at each new level, never once needing to open the mouth. See? You thought you had forgotten. Forty-seven degrees. Stars and clouds. The cool, rainy weather continues. I’ve been wearing them […]
What About Now?
Resisting nothing — have you tried it? Sorrow, loss, sickness, pain, problems, ideas, even your own resistance. Joy and good fortune. Love, death, anonymity. At one time or another, you’ve resisted them all. And there they are still. What about now? Not to be rid of them, or to pick and to choose. But to find out, and see for yourself. . [ 1439 ]
For Your Own Sake
Men seek wisdom, sunflower sprouts spring from the warming soil. * Rich or poor, for your own sake, ask yourself what you would do if money weren’t a concern. * Love is the sound the shovel makes. * Birch clock: the dead branch, the singing bird. * Cedar clock: the low branch, the rope swing. * Old or young, ask yourself what you would do if time weren’t a concern. […]
At Such an Early Hour
What does the robin sing to the moon? Farewell? Don’t go? I’m here? Soft clouds? Or does he sing to the moon at all? My Joy? My life? My love? . [ 1435 ]
Kirk’s Nose (and other stories)
A few words about my recently departed brother — a short, incomplete remembrance, if you will: Kirk was born November 22, 1946, on our parents’ third anniversary. He was named Kourken Haig, after our father’s mother’s youngest brother, Kourken, and after our father’s older brother, Haig, who was killed in the Second World War. Kirk didn’t begin talking until he was four — then, suddenly, he started in with what […]
War Is Over
Two and a half miles and two owls. Robins and rain. Petals and pollen. Street, feet, sandal-squeak. And that was my run. My brother’s funeral has come and gone. It was in Edmonton. We were here at home. There was video provided the next day, despite a power outage during the service, which left the room dark. A side door had to be opened to admit some light. Admit the […]
Kirk
I note here the death of my eldest brother, Kirk. A research scientist in the field of photoacoustic infrared spectroscopy, Kirk was overtaken mid-stride late last May by an aggressive brain tumor. They ran side by side for a while, but the tumor was an ill-mannered competitor without the capacity to appreciate Kirk’s steady, fair-minded pacifism. Like so many of us, the tumor had to win. And so, two days […]
William Michaelian 