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Retired from 10 years in the Canadian Navy, and 28 years in the Canadian Diplomatic Service, with postings in Beijing, Mexico City, Sri Lanka, Romania, Abu Dhabi, Guyana, Ireland, Trinidad, and, last but not least, India.

Monday 23 July 2012

Sunday Afternoon on the Verandah: A Meditation on Time Travel




Eyes closed, back straight.
The smell of freshly ground drip 
Fair Trade hand-blended travelogue of
Ethiopian, Guatemalan, Colombian.

Breathing
Breathing
B r e a t h i n g

Windchimes
Ranger's toenails click click click
seven distinct tones of wind song
brisk and Westerly
enchanting the maples and the pines
with caresses and promises
of distant . . . . . . . and different . . . . . . .
lands, and Realities
just around the corner.



Finches complimenting the bird feeder
jays bragging, chickadee joyous
singing to scudding white clouds
while the squirrel scolds, biding his time
mourning doves 
lament their name

Mr. Myer's lawn tractor
sings a Sunday song
across a summer valley.

Breathe.
Eyes open to Greyhavens pastoral afternoon.
One mourning dove takes nervous point
watching for feral cats
while his comrades feast.

Nina Simone and Julie London
beckon from within.
Breathe.
Be.                                   Now.

The Ancient Hippie

The Ancient Hippie
Natraj dances with us all.

Welcome, and Namaste

Greetings fellow travellers,

For you American friends visiting, you will notice that this old Canadian uses Canadian English in this blog: kindly bear with me. As I blog primarily on subjects that are vitally interesting to me, I appreciate all feedback.

As I tend to be a bit of a language usage freak, I will, as required, edit obscenity and rude comments. That said, I welcome your opinions and discussion.

May your Dharma be clear

Peace

"If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended:
That you have but slumb'red here,
While these visions did appear."


Puck’s epilogue to A Midsummer Night’s Dream