The Trials of November
tree of life
words, thoughts; hopes and dreams
originate at the base
the roots of ideas nurturing the soul
each branch as it reaches out
become tributaries that flow like seawater
connecting leaves and fruit - prose and poetry
as light plays a pattern over it all
as life continues over it all
each word a strand, each rhythm
or rhyme falls as others replace it
not detritus but leaflitter, gathering
fermenting, enriching
the scent of peat moss and pinecone
fir and birch; different and yet the same
weaving a nurturing web for all
beholding and beholden
each stretch of wood, crease of bark
has meaning and purpose
dressed in fog, old man's beard
broken, deadfall, a nurse log
branch tips do not touch
yet roots entwine
connecting synapsis
senses become a ground wire
lest we forget how we connect
lifeforce found in the in-between
©Trish Shields
I've been watching the coho run with utter fascination the past few weeks. It's quite amazing to see these huge fish jumping clear out of the water. They pay no mind to the fishermen on shore who try to lure them in.
The big fish are the lures, however, for the eagles. This is a female bald eagle. It's common now to see half a dozen in the trees overlooking the Puntledge River as they try and spot the coho.
This month also reminds us to remember those in uniform as they protected our rights as free citizens, often making the ultimate sacrifice.
My father, Andrew C. Moffat, was one of the few Canadian Korean War vets still living. Thant number dropped this past January when my father died quietly, painlessly, in his sleep. I wrote these next poems in his honour.
from ear to ear
they stand and wait
faces wreathed in smiles
beret, uniform, and medals
glinting in the blossoming day
trenches line their cheeks
barbed wire encircling their lips
landmines lie in wait
within each pupil
and no-man's-land stretches
from ear to ear
waiting for surrender
looking at Grandpa one would never
guess he'd been at Guadalcanal
sustaining bayonet wounds
in hand-to-hand combat
on a beach with yellow sand
a dazzling blue sky
and bloody water
--lapping your cares away
piercing eyes peek from folds
young men and women gone
tremors belie the mettle
birthed on landing boats
battlefields at Dieppe, Normandy
Tobruk, Ypres or Kapyong
head bowed from the dais
on a brittle take-no-prisoners
November day
they ask us to remember
to never forget
©Trish Shields
for Dad
A Soldier
His hands gripped the dais
As the wind howled ‘round
Battle worn and weary
Yet stalwart and standing tall
His 90 years fell away
As he bent to his task
And the significance
And weight of this day
White flakes covered his cap
Yet he bent to his task
And wove a life
Dedicated to all
As we stood with heads bowed
The snow swirled ‘round
He became my father
Once more
©Trish Shields
As we move ever forward towards the end of 2017, I must admit it's been a tumultuous year. There have been the usual trials and tribulations. One being the my Panasonic FZ300 camera. The quality of the photos it was taking were diminishing. I had smartly gotten camera insurance of the 'drop/moisture damage' variety so turning it in and getting the cost of the camera back was relatively painless. After a short while, I was able to replace it with a new Panasonic - this time the FZ80, which has 60x zoom. The above eagle photo was taken with this camera. There's always a learning curve when you get a new camera and this one is no different. Hopefully, I can fine tune the settings to where I'm happy in a short period of time. The trumpeter swans have arrived but in smaller numbers. Must be ready by then!