The new edition is now available for order online or through many local bookstores. Here is an excerpt: a-transcendental-journey
Image courtesy of 123rf (modified)
Diamonds dazzle Lord Nelson’s hat,
that vintage oak wind-sculpted on the hill.
Light-pierced from a bold, all-seeing sun,
it nobly ponders summer's embers.
Bronzed acorns slip their leather cups,
reverberant upon the ground and proud
their forebears made those 'wooden walls'
on crescent tides that drove invaders back.
Sheep browse a hoof-worn treadmill,
eschewing thorn and thistle where random seed
may take no root, no quarter gained by rising
verdure in the evening blaze of history's days.
Wind burns its timeless song into the soul,
clouds flee to brood and congregate elsewhere,
earth braces for a remnant harvest home.
Another spring, another life, another year...
But Michaelmas is bright with angel mist,
the ether wired with energies of beating wings.
The blinding circle inches westward, a whirling
cursor poised to link to otherworldly scenes...
The tree in winter which was the poem's inspiration
"Are you having any readings?"
"Have you brought some music?"
"Do you have rings?"
The elderly registrar smiles with a hint of relief. At least one traditional feature. She tells those present that photos are not permitted during the actual signing of the register but they can be posed for afterwards.
"Does anyone have any questions?"
"In that case, shall we begin?"
We all stand in our appointed positions. Just the couple and two witnesses. "We asked you because you're the first people we met after we moved here," the bride and groom said. "Also, this way, none of our other friends can possibly be offended at not being asked."
Given these circumstances, H. and I feel deeply privileged to be here.
There are no other guests. They felt disloyal about inviting friends and leaving out family. She doesn't want her family's aloofness to sabotage her special day. He knows his family aren't ready to hear the news. Too much pain to come to terms with yet, too much forgiveness to be granted. This marriage is a right built on wrongs. Inevitable wrongs that had to be righted and could not be righted without some wrongs. We're only human.
He wears grey chinos and a blue shirt that brings out the colour of his eyes and the silver of his hair. She bought a terracotta top for the occasion, as well as a blue-grey skirt. Something new. Nothing old or borrowed. No flowers. This is a second marriage for both. A couple of decades ago, both had a day of white lace, speeches, three-tier cakes and pink champagne. A day to please her husband's family and his wife's tradition. Today is for them alone.
The ceremony takes about twenty minutes. The registrar speaks the vows and they repeat after her slowly, meaning every word. Plain, matching gold bands are slipped on fingers. A tender kiss exchanged. This is a second wedding. The youthful trust has grown into firm intention. The candy-coloured spring blossoms have been replaced with the deeper, earthier hues of early autumn. Passion with compassion.
With so much work to accomplish every day, my weekends have been anything but restful.
I have been waking up too early every morning in a rush because of so many things to do.
How unlikely of me.
I am disappointed with myself because I have allowed myself to reach this exhausting point.
A year down the road feels like a decade.
I value the work that I do but, admittedly, it’s taking a toll on me.
Maybe it’s just another hiccup in life.
Maybe it’s just an off year.
I can’t help but at times wonder…
Could there be yet another something for me out there?
Something that will keep me motivated.
Something what will shift me to a better place.
Not just work wise but all around life kind of thing.
You see, truth is, I’m on my own.
Not that it’s a bad thing, it just is.
I know God hears.
Eventually things will shift again.
Just have to sit it out and ride the tide.