Snowy day in Vancouver


My heart is free

Written on Thursday, October 21, 2021

Clouds send rain

I walk with speed

to keep warm

Leaves blow in a

diagonal in front of


Poplars whoosh and bend

dogs bark at each other as

I sip water

and stand near

a parked boat.

My boat is on the waves

they’ve settled

and it bobs up and down

as I relax

from the tempest.

My heart is free

in wide open spaces

not crowded and

suffocated by

cement and trains.

I look for

the snow geese

in the sky

as I sip my decaf.

Life is not as smooth

as my peanut butter

on toast

but surely it is as

sweet as the

homemade roasted

plum jam

from a friend.

I praise the Lord

for this day!


Hope in My Step

“I walked with hope in my step after that.” Photo by cottonbro on

Me: Why does sadness come to me so often?

Great-Grandma: Emotions are a gift like the tide for the ocean.

Me: It hurts my heart to miss loved ones.

Great-Grandma: They are very close to you. Fear not.

Me: I long for heaven without suffering.

Great-Grandma: Keep moving on your journey. You will get there. Enjoy life’s path.

Me: All of it?

Great-Grandma: All of it.

I walked with hope in my step after that.

I sat in the garden and saw the whole world. A butterfly, buds, birds, cats, spiderwebs, rotting wood, sun and spirit.



A conversation with my late Ojibway Great-Grandma

Inspired by the book Embers One Ojibway’s Meditations written by Richard Wagamese

“Trust in your destiny of gold.” Photo by Pixabay on

Me: What if I fail?

Great-Grandma: The Creator is within you. You will not fail.

Me: How do I not let fear hold me back?

Great-Grandma: You have opportunities to trust in your destiny of gold. Believe with all your heart.

Me: But how?

Great-Grandma: You are not alone.

I walked with peace towards my goals after that.


If there be one thing…

I hope my stories become prayers, become hopeful living.

If there be one thing for me to leave in the world. It would be a legacy. A legacy of love.

I hope my words remain etched in the fabric of life.

Stories unfold and rest in the bosom where memories are treasured.

I hope my stories become prayers, become hopeful living.

I try to be true, honest and light. There is pain and trial. With God there is might. His love never leaves me dry for long. The pen flows freely. If I sit here, a song.


Lunch on the Patio

A poem inspired by the Japanese form of Haibun Poetry, combining prose and Haiku.

Moss covers the old shed

beside the laden cherry tree

In the neighbour’s yard

Grey squirrel climbs tree

Branches sway under the sky

Shiny cherries hang

Pink peonies fill 

A tall vase

Below the stairs 

By the light switch 

Near the door

Landlords cabin bound

Flowers a gift of kindness

From their own garden

Rooftops of Mount Pleasant homes

Clouds and trees are views from the patio 

Tortillas and guacamole 

Nourish stomachs at lunch

Wind makes the trees dance

Orange slices refreshing

Senses come alive