Happy Birthday to Zeb

Kaitlyn and Luke were at our house 

when the news arrived,  a baby, 

I napped between the texts,  excitment 

fighting concussion. 

Now,  I ride the bus, 

delighted to be able to celebrate, 

to join in,   a party with four 

proud fingers in the air. 

This mornings picture shows 

him dressed as a firefighter,  the other 

day it was a pink flamingo and 

tomorrow...I wait eagerly. 

We marched together at pride,

 come, please, his momma said, 

three generations together,  he said, 

I want the t- shirt with my family on it. 

His smile embraces me,  twinkling eyes 

shining with possibility,  as he shares 

the stories of his workers,  the coffee 

shop,  a home. 

Living with the knowledge of life's fragility, 

always present,  when reminded of his birth, 

gratitude surrounds me,  to love and be loved, 

an open gift from Zebbie to Gg 

returned. 

gkn Sept. 22 2016

Today

I picked a pear, 

was kissed,  drove to the airport, 

ate too much at an Indian buffet, 

smiled in the rain, 

laughter, celebrated a return 

home from hospital, 

hugged goodbye, hello, 

chatted in person, liked a travel 

dream being fulfilled, 

imagined ...

gkn September 2016

38

I remember her birth 

like it was yesterday, 

yesterday, 

I lost my glasses, 

the anticipation, the friend who came 

for the birth, waited with me three weeks, 

held her briefly before departing, 

 

yesterday, 

I left the laundry out in the rain, 

the wide eyed wonder and delight  of her dad and I, 

as we dreamed,  planned and claimed knowledge 

of a parenting journey, 

yesterday, 

I went to the wrong restaurant to meet you, 

her first steps,  the gentle kiss she placed 

on the nose of the spring horse at her 

second Christmas, 

yesterday, 

my bicycle helmet rode in the basket as I peddled to the store

the pushing tears as she waited for the school bus, 

in the pink strawberry shortcake outfit she chose 

with pride, 

yesterday

I did not return that important phone call, 

her bicycle wheels racing down the road when 

she was told her dad and I were separating,  complete with 

her cry of but you promised, 

yesterday, 

I went to the store three times, 

the laughter and tears of sisters,  and friends,

 teenagers emptying the fridge, eating my baking, 

filling the house, 

yesterday, today, 

I celebrate the gift of mothering.

gkn September 2016

For Holly

Porches, with roofs are a sanctuary

for this strange world of third stage living

galaxies force themselves upon us, 

springing like slinkies 

from behind previously familiar dolls and

blocks, infants weaned and crooned 

over, with dreams filled by 70's, 80's and 90's 

Today's  Parent wisdom,  are determined, 

intelligent familiar strangers.

Partners, children, family, friends, loves

not physically present on this porch, 

surround our sorting, seeking, growing 

conversation,  moving in and out,

 like aches, 

we thought would never greet us,  

We sit grateful for

the 30 plus years of friendship that allows 

us into each other's hearts with 

deep love for all those familiar strangers who

fill our galaxies, tripping us up, 

and sending us delight beyond any 

 wisdom, past or present.

matriarchs 

when did they get

so young?

This third stage living not meant for all, 

we both know loss, those too soon dead, while yet

we live and love and grow, still seeking, oft weeping, 

we carry on, with gratitude

galactical love a coverlet 

we hold for one another.

gkn August 2016

Bouquets from the Labyrinth

Surrounded by your presence, 

and yours and yours, 

flower gifts 

memory, a smile, 

a twinkling stern eye,

I must, I can, I will 

determination flooded by 

You. 

Movement continues. 

gkn August 2016

What if?

with thanks to Mary Oliver (How Everything Adores Being Alive)

What 

if you were

human

and your soul

and a significant amount of courage

aroused you to come 

into 

your world

of so many dreams

becoming

and 

what if

you 

clamoured aboard 

falling into

the grinning face 

of possibility

and 

allowed yourself 

to be 

embraced

by its

succulent unfamiliarity

a happy prisoner?

gkn August 2016

Contentment

Steaming green tea warms, 

the iceberg in the harbour

split in two it's translucence 

visible from my writing chair, 

ducks and ducklings gather on my left, 

whales spouts 

demand attention, while the hiking trail of yesterday 

reminds me of its many delights.  

Smells of breakfast 

prepared for me, remind me to 

stay close to this home 

now, cool ocean breezes blow through my hair.

gkn July 2016