Condensed

Condensed
I grow old.
Brain cells slow
their hurried pace
or just vacate
my inner space
beyond the world I know.
The lights within my head
switch down to dim.
I grow forgetful.
Why am I here? I say,
regardless of the room I’m in.
Where is my data base?
What once was clear
and ever near
now fades or disappears.
Information I’ve collected,
recorded, sorted, reviewed,
used or ignored,
becomes ‘Top Secret’ too.
What was that word, that name?
Where did ‘that’ go?
Where are they stored-
the things that I once knew?
So little remains
of all my hard-earned gains-
knowledge, understanding,
and wisdom lost,
that of others and my own.
Where are the harvests
my love of life has sown?
Where are the memories
of living I have known?
What meanings did I choose
making and hearing ‘news’?
World views change.
Paradigms shift.
Values change. Morality too.
The ‘right’ and ‘wrong’
depends on View.
Opportunity shines in every test,
encouraging- Be and Do our best.
Passion for life still echoes in me
but strength grows less.
I wonder where I left my zest?
What we give becomes our gift,
leaving all for death’s great rest.
My heartfelt sympathies abound
for loss of freedoms all around.
My mind’s become untidy-
a cluttered, jumbled heap,
wanting more and more to sleep.
Is there some intelligence to retrieve
before I breathe my last and leave?
I hasten to compress
thoughts I must confess
just bits and bytes by me for me,
written here lest I forget,
condensed,
yet, this too, I shall forget.
This is what I now see
of our Human History:
a simultaneous expression
and continuous succession
in slow and rapid changes
of ‘Elites’
deemed ‘choice’, ‘superior’, ‘best’,
with supporting
Hierarchies
in all created systems
and structures
of Belief and Behaviour
through the corridors of Time.
The Game on Gaia
is Circles and Pyramids
of Power ‘Elites’-
aggressing progressions,
promoting, enriching, protecting
their own at any cost-
wars and persecutions,
feasts of suffering.
(I’ve lived many lives
and often played this Game.)
I see Political ‘Elites’-
rulers and aspiring rulers
in dynasties, dictatorships,
democracies, in ‘ists’ and ‘isms’,
parties ‘left’ and parties ‘right’,
the ‘chosen’, ‘elected’, ‘appointed’…
I see Religious ‘Elites’-
the ‘initiated’ and ‘illuminated’,
claiming divine ‘right’
and divine ‘might’,
the ‘chosen’, ‘elect’, ‘anointed’…
I see Economic ‘Elites’-
adept money makers
influencing and dictating,
powers local and powers global…
I see Social ‘Elites’-
bonding and betraying,
status intoxicated
with ‘class’ and ‘caste’,
glutinous for pride and envy…
I see Military ‘Elites’-
defending and aggressing,
enforcing and policing
unquestioning compliance,
an endless march of units,
humans and machines
commanding obedience and reliance,
serving all Power ‘Elites’
through sacrifice of ‘self’ and others…
I see ‘Elites’ in all
bright and dark Arts,
bright and dark Sciences,
‘Elites’ with ‘heady’ Philosophies
detached from ‘heart’…
‘Elites’ of muscular Sports
winning at any cost…
On and on they march
through Human History,
all playing the Ancient Game
of a very young Species.
How I do admire, respect
and celebrate the best within us,
the best in Humanity-
courage, honour, integrity,
kindness, compassion, generosity,
every attribute of love…
I am grown old and weary-
weary of ‘staged’ histories,
nightmarish ‘realities’,
egocentric personalities
that devalue, diminish,
deplete, and delete others-
tired of false claims,
self-serving aims,
corrupt hearts and minds
redefining ‘choice’ and ‘best’,
‘the good life’, and one’s ‘worth’.
I am grown weary
of ‘superiority’ and greed,
misuse of power,
invisible tyrannies,
secret agendas,
hidden truths,
freedoms robbed,
healings withheld,
denied basic needs,
obscene displays of wealth.
Can an old rocking chair make waves?
I quietly ask myself.
What was I thinking?
What was I saying?
Oh yes, I need a nap,
a nap in which to dream.
Now it’s time to dream…

(Shelley Wilson- July 31, 2016)

 
 
 
 
 

May your Spirit shine brightly, Shelley

Advertisements

Riding The Clouds

Riding The Clouds
 
Our Mother, Dixie, left Cancer behind on September 25th, 2015, but we’ve felt her continuing presence and personality with us. She was a true blessing to so many people- Family, Friends, Acquaintances, Strangers, and Dog Companions. Her inner beauty, open friendliness, generosity of spirit and food, as well as wise and practical helpfulness were legendary. She now loves being a ‘Guardian Angel’ and often appears visibly to our gifted Sister, Bev, an Earth Angel here.
Our Father, Stan, slipped quietly from his worn out body at 12 noon on July 5th, 2016 in Kirkland lake, Ontario.
Dad was an avid Outdoors-man and inspired his four Children with a deep love and respect for Nature through the living of his life.
Northeastern Ontario is a rugged land of many rivers and lakes, so Dad had a large playground in which to fish, hunt, ski, and explore with boats, vans, and snowmobiles. Weather was never a deterrent to his adventures in the wilderness. He relished all challenges to his strength, stamina, and resourcefulness.
At 12 noon on July 5th our Brother, Brian, was fishing near Timmins with a Friend. I intuit that, like Dad, Brian finds peace in communion with Nature but keeps that private realm of thoughts and feelings mostly to himself. The love is shown in just being there.
At 12 noon that day, our Sister, Bev, was boating with her Partner, Stew, and their Friends along the Trent waterway in southern Ontario. Bev and Stew have a home by a lake near Cambridge but spend most of their days exploring the Globe and gathering a wealth of experience.
I have also explored distant parts of the Planet but was willingly captured by the adventure and enchanting beauty of the Pacific, the flowers, the trees, the mountains, the parks and romantically twisting roads of British Columbia, this beautiful place I now call home.
At 12 noon (Ontario Time) July 5th, I was quietly sipping my breakfast coffee in Victoria, BC, as once again I drank in the ever-refreshing beauty of the flowers outside my windows. It was a Spring-like Summer morning filled with the sights and sounds of Seagulls, Swallows, Crows, Pigeons, Sparrows, Wrens, Chickadees, Robins and a myriad other little Songbirds with magical, musical songs. I marvelled at such busy skies and wherever I looked, the trees and lines of communication were holding a resting place for so many birds!
Thoughts of Life and Death and the Continuity of Life filled my inner skies as my former Mother-in-Law had been released from an aged body with Alzheimer’s just a few short days before at 11:30 p.m. on July 1st. Her Husband had left his outworn body before her. Canada Day was also the day of their wedding anniversary. At last they are reunited and free of such limiting boundaries.
The morning after she departed I awoke to an unusual and eerie silence outside. I opened the curtains to find two beautiful black Crows glinting iridescent blue in the sunlight as they affectionately groomed each other on a telephone line. No other birds were in sight. There was no sound or movement anywhere around for a few timeless minutes as I stood watching respectfully in silence.
Not long after, two magnificent Herons flew closely together, almost touching at times, as they moved across my view of the morning sky. Herons are especially significant to me as a universal symbol of new beginnings and new adventures.
Later that day, on a solitary stroll through Beacon Hill Park I watched two yellow Butterflies dance around each other in the air as they passed by me. Butterflies are a universal symbol of Transformation, Rebirth, and the Continuity of Life. Perfect timing!
On July 4th, the day before our Dad was transformed into a more ethereal way of being, I had another experience with Butterflies. I was lounging on my patio chair with my eyes closed taking in the warmth and energy of the sunlight and feeling the perfection of the moment.
I heard a soft, rustling sound among the rhododendron leaves so I opened my eyes. Two Butterflies rose together from the bush circling each other as they spiralled straight upward in the air. From my viewpoint there, it appeared as if they were ascending together straight into the brilliant Sun above. I was transfixed in wonder by awareness of the beauty and profound meaning of that perfect moment. This experience is what I was contemplating at the moment of Dad’s transformation and the beginning of his new adventures.
At 12 noon on July 5th our Brother, Don, was mowing the grass at the cabin on Kenogami Lake when he received an inner announcement that Dad was gone and that a Policeman would come to inform him. He stopped working immediately, went back to the cabin and sat down with a beer to await the news. Shortly after, his friend Carl, the Policeman, showed up but it was Don who informed him of Dad’s death first. Carl is familiar with Don’s insights and gifts so he would not have been surprised, just puzzled again. I recall a time when Don redirected a search party and led them to where some men were lost in the bush terribly fly-bitten and confused. He helped bring them safely home.
Our whole Family, including Grandchildren, have repeatedly revealed similar gifts of awareness and knowing over the years. I remember a time both Mom and Dad demonstrated their telepathic abilities in the days before GPS, cell phones, and mass produced computers.
‘It was a dark and stormy night’ in Winter. Dad had not returned from a day of cross country skiing on bush trails with a Friend. By midnight our Grandparents and other adults were in a panic. The snow just kept coming and the fierce wind was creating huge snowdrifts everywhere in the area. Grandpa was ready to call the Police. Mom sat down for a while in silence and closed her eyes. A few minutes later she announced that Dad was safe and comfortable. He told her telepathically that they’d found a cabin in the bush, were snowbound, and would stay until the storm passed. Mom expressed complete calm and confidence in their safety. Everyone went to bed, then Dad returned the next day confirming his message to Mom.
On July 5th, my sister, Bev, took a photograph with her cell phone while on the boat when this wonderful cloud formation crossed the sky shortly after our Dad left his physical body. There’s our Dad on his snowmobile joyfully driving through the snowy white trails of clouds. He was ‘trailing clouds of glory from God who is our home’ as the great poet Wordsworth once wrote. God speed Dad! Our love is with you and Mom always.

Shelley Wilson- July 7, 2016)

May your Spirit shine brightly, Shelley

Greeting Dad

Dad slipped away quietly in his sleep today. He was 88. Now he and Mom are reunited and as joyful as two butterflies I watched circling each other as they rose straight up towards the shining sun. I wrote this poem in April 2003.

Greeting Dad

I am older than that Trickster Time

and his mercurial Mother Nature-

older than the stars and Earth

in continuous, evolving creation

with its dramas of rebirth.

I am part of ageless Spirit-

even in this ever-aging body of mine.

Yet when I greet my Dad

I become a child of three

with love-bright eyes and trusting hand.

He’s a humble man of inner strengths,

inspiring and reminding.

I’ve watched his quiet patience

master time and circumstance.

Dad is the northern wilderness to me,

the forests, the water, and the land I love.

Like a little child I see

through my heart when I greet Dad.

StanDad