tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52992044019172981362024-03-13T09:35:29.765-07:00Language of Treesfiction and poetry from the earthDanial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.comBlogger144125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-38740271967351771952014-05-18T18:27:00.000-07:002014-05-18T18:27:04.831-07:00Racer
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Tell me something different</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Tell me what the world has forgotten</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Tell me where you have been, what secret</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">places touched your long and fluid
belly, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">what dark mysteries drew you to the hole
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">where I found you<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">But of course, I didn’t find you –</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">you allowed my presence so I could<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">look into your eyes and wonder how<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">the plates of your skin were constructed
–<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">no welds that I could see<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">You allowed me your image, the one</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I didn’t ask for, but the one you
granted me <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">so that I might shout the glory of </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">of
your yellow lightning</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-66322958690288786792014-02-26T16:40:00.001-08:002014-02-26T16:40:30.334-08:00Winter Treewalk in the cold stillness<br />
where the white silence burns with memories<br />
of frozen hands useless against zippers<br />
and snow angels falling under our shadows<br />
<br />
wander, recover simplicity and lay down<br />
everything that doesn't matter,<br />
make friends with the flickers drumming you home<br />
and hear the one song in your weary head<br />
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<br />Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-15401907671717884732013-07-22T11:36:00.001-07:002014-02-23T16:25:51.699-08:00Watching Beescome down to the clover<br />
with your bumblebee memory<br />
and sip the purple blooms<br />
<br />
come down to the clover<br />
with your bristles and buzz<br />
and heal a world that cannot be won<br />
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Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-70221725367866660152013-05-10T17:14:00.002-07:002013-09-08T10:02:33.707-07:00Dandelionsmy father paid us boys <br />
twenty-five cents a bucket <br />
to pull them plenty <br />
and now the neighbours are out<br />
with their stomping tools <br />
sucking them out by the roots<br />
<br />
and of course you cannot forget<br />
the careless old fools with their bottles <br />
of dreadful herbicide, on their knees <br />
along the sidewalks<br />
<br />
to call them weeds is an error,<br />
outrageously human - much maligned <br />
and I'll never know why<br />
<br />
to see them out on my lawn<br />
like yellow stars against <br />
the green firmament,<br />
and later the tall puffs of them <br />
light as air<br />
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Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-74493508505273836572013-04-15T00:34:00.000-07:002013-08-13T22:33:40.498-07:00Saskatoon BerryAll bloom now, arriving like new snow<br />
and a surprising sweetness<br />
carried on the valley wind<br />
<br />
I feel all right when the flowers come,<br />
a certain spring in the green hills<br />
They know that I count on them,<br />
their radiant light after a long sleep<br />
<br />
They never fail, so patient <br />
for the sun and eager for the bees <br />
to plant the summer fruit<br />
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The blossoms will fall in a few days,</div>
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absorbed into memory, these passing things </div>
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that hold up my world</div>
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Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-15234459887932404712013-04-06T15:33:00.003-07:002014-02-23T14:43:27.479-08:00Stairway<div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt;">what is my music - but a driving rhythm, <br />the timeless imprint of a singular moment when a song, <br />a band spoke my name, called me out to hear <br /><em>Dazed and Confused</em>, and a man possessed<br />with an incurable guitar, the thunder of drums<br />and that wailing on centre stage<br />that led me away from everything else, saved me<br />from the ordinary, made me want to be more,<br />kept me stretching, longing, moving,<br />always the music with me, never deviating <br />as they grew older, grey and wrinkled,<br />beautiful men who understand the full glory<br />of their history etched in the hearts of boys <br />now aging with them</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-23040720582722603832013-03-10T10:42:00.000-07:002013-04-05T21:07:36.122-07:00The Deep<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">a wilderness vision shouts<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">from the marrow of a man,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">carries a message of himself<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">into the mountains<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and into the deep</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">listen to the life<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">murmuring at your feet,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">there are no possessions</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">into the mountains<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and into the deep</span></span></div>
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</o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">not a thing to own<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but a purpose, a will <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and a song<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">into the mountains</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and into the deep</span></span></div>
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Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-29351783657890105792013-01-27T13:29:00.001-08:002013-01-27T13:33:22.510-08:00Icefall<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The hard colour,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ribs of slow shivering<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and glacial stone<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It does not<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>move,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">such a still and unshakable presence<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">as if time rested a while,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">a breath to take in winter<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is unmoving for the eyes,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">for the senses that become ice-bound<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and arctic<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I could not move my boreal limbs,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">no will to look away<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It wanted me to know its presence,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">its moment<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But how could that be?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And then the ice broke away above me,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">fell, tumbling shards – a sound of beads <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">on a tile floor<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then I knew what is existence,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">what is a moment<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nothing lasts - snowflakes die in the wet streets<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and the sun bursts above the horizon<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in a singular instant for Chris Hadfield <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">above the Earth<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nothing lasts<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nothing lasts but the awareness<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">of ice and the thawing days</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span>Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-4667982562662979892013-01-20T00:16:00.000-08:002013-01-20T00:39:13.141-08:00January<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">for Mark</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All is raw and cold slices,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">uphill against a distant sun<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is no respite from the pagan dark<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but the seeker will not be idle<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have found the secrets <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">in the coastal gardens, snowdrops<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">shivering in their daring blooms<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and flowering cherries undaunted<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and reckless pink<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know where they are, old friends,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>hazel with its yellow tassles<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and nearby the wooly grey heads <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">of willow inform the waxing days<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You see, there is life, ever present<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">pushing a common will<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We are the steady ones born under <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">a heralding spring, early perhaps,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but someone <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>has to break the good news</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span>Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-39990763332898851392012-11-13T20:07:00.001-08:002012-11-13T20:07:29.624-08:00November<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt;">for Scott<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt;">The Earth pulls back now,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt;">braces against the shake and rattle of limbs<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>when leaves gather thick along the fences<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt;">and salmon with their cold fungal<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt;">sores drift spent in the sheltered gullies<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt;">Know that life lets go before renewal, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt;">feeds itself on the grey days and heaves<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt;">the splendid memories, always the cycle <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt;">of things spinning in your eyes<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt;">You are the closest to the restoration,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt;">arriving in the world when Spring’s promise<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt;">was asleep in the brooding woods</span></div>
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Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-65593526051095768222012-10-29T00:40:00.001-07:002012-10-29T00:45:43.041-07:00 A Gentle Rain the rain settles like hands<br />
upon you, cold fingers<br />
remembering your face<br />
<br />
there is no one in the street<br />
but the washed few who think <br />
that it is for them<br />
<br />
there are small voices in the rain,<br />
no one talks, and you can think <br />
without the urgent sun<br />
<br />
and the melancholy drift of it, <br />
the grey and insipid pouring<br />
that allows you to shrink back<br />
<br />
we can rest there, <br />
a moments withdrawal <br />
from the world of face-time<br />
<br />
look at the solitary crows <br />
and how the rain boils <br />
off their ungodly capes<br />
<br />
they cackle with their jaunty hops,<br />
pleased, i would say, to be so ridiculous<br />
in the carnival of wet and shivering<br />
<br />
but not too much of it<br />
under the dripping leaves<br />
listening to the drizzle and sizzle<br />
<br />
i once sat in the woods as a boy<br />
when a thrush told me stories<br />
with its rusty-hinge song<br />
<br />
and when it rains now<br />
and the sky falls black and brooding,<br />
i take his hand and wait for the music<br />
<br />
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Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-46817331087049524402012-10-09T00:32:00.003-07:002012-10-09T00:39:11.675-07:00The Scorched Earththe scorched Earth <br />
and the rivers run dry,<br />
my tears are salted stains<br />
and still I hope as flesh clings to bone<br />
<br />
so I look for the aspens crowded gold<br />
in the high coulees - there is peace <br />
in their trembling songs<br />
<br />
it is my imperative, as necessary <br />
as anything worth living for,<br />
to understand their language<br />
<br />
what can I say to the ravagers <br />
among us, the man in the suit <br />
with his wealth and swagger?<br />
<br />
he does not believe in Life, does not see<br />
what is vanishing - that what is seared<br />
will burn him too<br />
<br />
the future has been written, some say that<br />
<em><strong>Crimes Against the Environment</strong></em><br />
will see his name soaked in oil<br />
<br />
what will he tell his children<br />
when the fires come over the hill?<br />
<br />
<br />
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Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-9182809288521904342012-09-21T00:14:00.001-07:002012-09-21T00:14:42.432-07:00Cranesa clarion revelation<br />
and cranes arrive stitched <br />
to the dome of the world,<br />
soaring over our urgency, <br />
our condemnation, our waste<br />
<br />
what are they thinking <br />
when the thermals choke them <br />
with indifference?<br />
<br />
there is no greater loneliness <br />
that I can think of - not to have them, <br />
spring and fall,<br />
not to see them as etchings<br />
of millenia passing by<br />
<br />
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Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-1662580051512750202012-08-26T16:46:00.001-07:002012-08-26T16:46:38.582-07:00The End of Summerthe grasshoppers are full of summer life<br />
<br />
how suddenly<br />
they give up <br />
their limbs <br />
to the hard beaks <br />
of sparrows<br />
who hastily<br />
carry them away <br />
like pale cigars<br />
<br />
the starlings hunt them too <br />
<br />
up in the green pyramidals,<br />
stabbed to death <br />
with able chisels<br />
<br />
all these deaths <br />
and no one weeps,<br />
no mournful regrets or tributes <br />
<br />
we save that <br />
for our own kind it seems<br />
<br />
why is that we deny <br />
the many signs<br />
of our own mortality <br />
leaping willingly <br />
across the sun baked lawns?<br />
<br />
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Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-37278773016838199182012-08-18T13:28:00.001-07:002012-08-18T13:35:14.399-07:00The Day of My ReturnDo you know what the sea has done to me?<br />
Some investment that I made, a promise to return<br />
<br />
So many things have happened since then,<br />
a life moving like a riddle and the small discoveries <br />
only revealed looking back<br />
That summer when I splashed in the salted pools<br />
and plundered the beaches with pail and shovel,<br />
bursting colours in a child's hands<br />
My mother lost me one day so that<br />
I would remember<br />
<br />
Do you know what the sea has done to me?<br />
A love of what is real, the tactile and the tasted<br />
<br />
I knew to spit out the salt and bury my legs <br />
in the wet density of endless sand.There are more stars <br />
in the heavens, Carl Sagan once said<br />
It is new every day, that is something,<br />
life eager to begin again with its eternal blessing,<br />
the briny organic and the table is set<br />
<br />
Do you know what the sea has done to me?<br />
The shattering of light on the black water<br />
<br />
Precious stones without the hard matter,<br />
how the dying sun pours its copper and gold<br />
then flings it all against the sky<br />
There is always passing-by gulls,<br />
boats going here and there, countless epiphanies<br />
when you can't see the bottom<br />
<br />
Do you know what the sea had done to me?<br />
Showing me the otter in Oak Bay<br />
<br />
Its lifted head wanting me to see the glossy<br />
stretch of him, as fluid as any stream<br />
And the driftwood heaved and alone<br />
has a memory of wooded hills and storms<br />
I watched children poke a jellyfish <br />
along the tideline, and the curious crows <br />
not too far away knew better<br />
<br />
Do you know what the sea has done to me?<br />
It wanted me to go away so that I would love it more<br />
<br />
<br />
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Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-87052449090256782942012-08-05T14:34:00.000-07:002012-08-05T14:37:27.131-07:00Meadowhawka community in the tule <br />
and rank grass<br />
where the wetted spring <br />
heaved you out<br />
<br />
you inched up a stalk <br />
to split and shiver, <br />
concealed from the world<br />
to dry your gauzy wings<br />
<br />
and when you paused <br />
to show me your <br />
cherry eyes and perfection<br />
you did not mind my scrutiny<br />
<br />
you must have felt my shadow,<br />
overheard a father tell his son<br />
about the truth <br />
and seamless beauty of unity<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zp9IYXh1kRk/UB7m547YNPI/AAAAAAAAAR4/s8jeHtH3dx8/s1600/DSC_0022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" eda="true" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zp9IYXh1kRk/UB7m547YNPI/AAAAAAAAAR4/s8jeHtH3dx8/s320/DSC_0022.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-30396149492841197122012-07-12T14:17:00.001-07:002012-07-13T15:42:38.479-07:00The Great Bear RainforestThe sparrows in the garden <br />
lift the day with their stories,<br />
a poetic rising of the sun<br />
<br />
And aspens in the chalky groves<br />
speak to us with the slightest breeze,<br />
a community of a thousand years<br />
<br />
The rainforest drinks from the clouds<br />
and the white bear sleeps in the shadows,<br />
a visitor to our oldest dreams<br />
<br />
Stones along the ancient shores <br />
have a song of heavy notes, <br />
an enduring murmur in the cool waters<br />
<br />
A salted pool pulses like a beating heart<br />
and children answer with their fingers,<br />
a vital cleansing in the shells and shimmer<br />
<br />
There is only the expression of the One Life <br />
trusting the voices who know,<br />
patient for our blessings and remembering<br />
<br />
<br />
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</div>Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-45147356392096124832012-06-27T23:33:00.000-07:002012-07-05T22:15:17.510-07:00Forgivenessthere is the innocence of love,<br />
white as a sheet pulled<br />
from a sun-kissed line<br />
<br />
and shades of misunderstanding<br />
that begins as a bruise<br />
then runs crimson from the tongue<br />
<br />
know that what is true<br />
has held every error that ever was <br />
and released them like doves<br />
<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nfP9yuXcVH0/T-qo8QXXA9I/AAAAAAAAARM/n3Qdv_lcWV4/s1600/DSC_0572.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nfP9yuXcVH0/T-qo8QXXA9I/AAAAAAAAARM/n3Qdv_lcWV4/s320/DSC_0572.JPG" vca="true" width="212" /></a></div>Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-80418258080589828672012-06-07T20:24:00.000-07:002012-06-07T21:11:54.043-07:00Evening Grosbeakyou fell from the trees like ash,<br />
tumbled down in your dappled suit<br />
and knocked at my door<br />
<br />
I heard your cheery petition,<br />
smacking that beak like a castanet<br />
and all of your fellows near<br />
with their yellow caps tilted<br />
to show me that one hungry eye<br />
<br />
you will ruin me with another bag of seeds,<br />
hefting it out there in an unseasonable rain,<br />
that dripping down my neck while you wait<br />
<br />
the sparrows told me<br />
that you are only passing through,<br />
filling up for a flight north<br />
<br />
shouldn't you have gone by now?<br />
<br />
and they say that you have a reputation<br />
for such things,<br />
ransacking feeders up and down the valley<br />
<br />
I wonder if you are alright,<br />
that life is good and your undulating flight<br />
will be there tomorrow<br />
<br />
never mind about the seeds,<br />
I have seen how the sun catches your girl<br />
in the morning, a black white whir across the yard<br />
<br />
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<br />Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-31460092624533019072012-05-06T21:53:00.000-07:002012-05-06T21:53:05.793-07:00Super MoonI know its fat face, as round as my father's pancakes<br />
bubbling with craters, open wounds<br />
<br />
We all go a little nuts with it looming over<br />
the rooftops working its ancient spells,<br />
<br />
A woman knows such things when the tide<br />
pulls her away from the shore<br />
<br />
And men, we keep it deep down<br />
until it loses its fullness<br />
<br />
No one sees us shaving the ungodly hairs<br />
that grew in the night<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1-DiMxO41p4/T6dVByu82mI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/LWELR1sBEf0/s1600/CSC_0396.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" mea="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1-DiMxO41p4/T6dVByu82mI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/LWELR1sBEf0/s320/CSC_0396.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-24764739067502468152012-04-08T23:02:00.000-07:002012-04-08T23:02:22.231-07:00Yellow BellThere you are hanging your demure yellow head<br />
pushing through the snow and so eager for spring, <br />
a lily of the arid relics of the Earth<br />
<br />
I rested on my knees to capture you,<br />
the moment the sun found your muted bell,<br />
but no toll rang for me<br />
<br />
And then a breeze whispered in my ear, <br />
said that its music was not a sound <br />
but the rising of my own presence<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LE27z-jJajw/T4J7RpSa92I/AAAAAAAAAQs/EvOcDrbcjtE/s1600/DSC_0368.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" nda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LE27z-jJajw/T4J7RpSa92I/AAAAAAAAAQs/EvOcDrbcjtE/s320/DSC_0368.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-19296770494406617922012-02-22T23:23:00.000-08:002012-02-22T23:23:02.001-08:00The Last Polar Bear<span lang="EN-CA"> <em>The bear came out of a rocky swale and drudged to the top of an ancient beach terrace and stopped and swung her great head back to the sea - the argent polish of it, shapeless, a vast water without ice, the last of the drifting packs ruined by the sun. A strong breeze kept the flies from her eyes and riffled the yellowing fur along her spine. The wind had not changed it seemed – it pushed and shoved the short grasses and willows for millennia. But there was more to the wind now; it carried the heat of </em></span><em><span lang="EN-CA">the land, the rising thermals that </span><span lang="EN-CA">found the arctic barrens senseless and impotent to change the course of a melting world.</span></em><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="EN-CA">A distant madness was a memory of the Earth and she was part of the earth and part of the memory and it was the memories of her kind that kept her alive and moved her ahead of death. It walked in her shadow and gnawed at her belly, a presence without conscious intention but something out of necessity and perfection in the barrens. But now it was more than the passing of flesh and the redistribution of energy - it would be annihilation and a journey into irretrievable silence, into the collective memory. All was wrong in an interrupted evolution, but still she endured with the mortal fuse of her lineage belonging only to her.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="EN-CA">For days she had been at sea in search of the ice. The seals would be there near their breathing holes. She would smell their breath. But there was no ice and there were no seals. And still she swam on, the black pads of her feet pulling her deeper into her memory, on toward the constant sun until her insulating fat was depleted and she had to turn back to the pebbled shore. There she scavenged the rotting carcass of a young whale, but the nimble foxes had picked it clean and the blubber bled rancid out into the gravel and she licked and chewed what was left with her old teeth until her gums were split and bloodied. It was not enough.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="EN-CA">She had fasted over the winter and into the spring, and now in the long summer starvation forced her out over the land. She had to turn away from the sea and the memories of fatted cubs that were but a dream. There in the den beneath her feet lay their bones, dying as they were born, never seeing the breadth of the sky or knowing the spring march out across the ice. She lowered her muzzle and remembered coaxing the still shapes with her tongue, their muted moans and then silence. It was long ago but time was not of her making. Then the bear raised her head and bellowed to the ends of the world, to the things of creation and destruction. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="EN-CA">She turned inland and moved through the thickening willows and browsed on sedges and grasses. She flushed a lark from its nest and at once devoured the clutch of still warm eggs. They would not sustain her but momentarily appeased an urgency that grew increasingly dire. She had to feed well her shrinking bulk. And then a memory of a time when food could be found that did not come from the land, a costly time when the <i>Takers</i> came to the north in their numbers, desperate for things deep in the earth. There came a great thaw and then an unacquainted silence, gone was the music of life, vanished were the great bird migrations. Trees crept up into the barrens from the south and snow fell heavy and wet and collapsed the many dens and lemmings suffocated by the score in their lanes and tunnels. And the bears gathered hungry when the first spring arrived without ice. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="EN-CA">And then the <i>Takers</i> were gone and with them the <i>Givers</i>, taken from their tilting shelters and famine. The <i>Givers</i> were the <i>People</i> and they hunted the bear as the bear hunted the seal. And the <i>Givers</i> prayed for the bear and they prayed for the land and now belonged to the memory of <i>Bear</i> and the oneness of all things. There was no memory of <i>Takers</i> with such reverence. They used up the Earth and discarded their food. She would go there, to the incongruent structures long abandoned now. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="EN-CA">In the distance shapes moved in uncommon waves and the bear lumbered on with a singular loneliness. There were no other beating hearts in the consciousness of white bears that shared the <i>Bear Soul</i> - there was only her own flagging heart in all that space. And in the afternoon she overheated and stopped to rest on a hummock. She sprawled and the bones of her shoulders pushed against her hide and all about her was the land and a sky with a sun that burned and a wind indifferent to things it touched. It cooled her for but a moment and then the heat returned, weakened her. She wanted to sleep. She dropped her head on a foreleg and closed her eyes – a fitful slumber, but she dreamed.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="EN-CA">She dreamed of ice and blue pools and seals unaware of her crouch and the mate who gave her the cubs asleep in their tomb, and she dreamed of a place, a gathering of every bear that ever lived, a land of ice and snow that had no beginning and no end. Then she opened her eyes and the shimmering abated and there in the distance, where the <i>Takers</i> drove down the devices of their taking, was a depression in the land and a pond that would cool her. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="EN-CA">She laboured to her feet and set out down the slope through arctic poppies thick and yellow, a sea of suns waving out across the plain. She ran now, desperate for relief from a heat she did not know. She would die without the cool waters of the barrens. And the poppies ended suddenly near the pond as if a line had been drawn and the water was dark and only its coolness occupied her. There was nothing else now, just the murky seepage from the peatlands and restoration. Then all at once her eyes stung and her nostrils burned of something foul and hot, not at all a cooling liberation but a savage betrayal of life. She could not stop her still great weight and all was slick and she swung to turn away but she floundered and fell back on her flank and the pond leapt upon her and she lunged to be free of it, heaved with all her will until she stood trembling at the lifeless margins.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="EN-CA">Something unloosened by the <i>Takers</i> and she licked at her paws and limbs, contorted to rid herself of the poison. And now a fire in her throat and the bear tossed her head then rolled about on the bare earth and into the poppies, maddening to be rid of the dripping blackness that assaulted her. She regained her feet and staggered and choked and moved away from the pond, from death. She was already dead, but in her brain there remained a primal resolve to survive, to exist another day. And in her misery, she knew where to go. She had to return to the sea.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="EN-CA">She moved away, heavy, her head low and her tongue frothed and lolling from her grim mouth. On she went following her steps back to the sea with the fire deep inside her now, burning her alive, into the early evening with the sun sliding low across the horizon. There was only the movement of her body, the contaminated fulfillment of the white bear. And the sea was near but she could not smell it and she could not see. The fire was in her lungs as she gained the terrace. The sea petitioned her, stronger now, and she kept on toward what she knew. There was no deception there in the water. The ice was no more but the sea would receive her.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="EN-CA">She stood on the beach, confused and dying, swaying above her failing legs. There was nothing now but to surrender to something more. She moved out into the water, deeper and deeper. It was cold – how the extremes of the world found her unprepared. And out into the water. There was no buoyancy left in her. She could not swim. There was no searching for a memory. She sank, disappeared, a sheen above her in the amber night. Then a last breath as she drank of the sea one last time.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"></div>Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-72991987565752856862012-01-31T12:29:00.000-08:002012-01-31T12:29:09.541-08:00Breathing Winterit is so still, so cold<br />
you whisper the sounds<br />
of breathing<br />
<br />
you look long into the empty<br />
sky filled with the chilled sighs<br />
of star gazers<br />
<br />
you wonder what it all means,<br />
why there are heavy hands in a world<br />
so willing to love you<br />
<br />
and the sky that sits on the horizon<br />
does so gently, to please you,<br />
does that every day until you<br />
<br />
remember that the coyote<br />
standing on the ice, stands there for you<br />
and a future that will love him too<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rJT9tlaYruQ/TyhOvH9GnhI/AAAAAAAAAQc/FAZTMh-jp5c/s1600/DSC_0349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rJT9tlaYruQ/TyhOvH9GnhI/AAAAAAAAAQc/FAZTMh-jp5c/s320/DSC_0349.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-19486356624448698172012-01-23T00:34:00.000-08:002012-01-23T00:35:44.678-08:00Swansthey settle over the mud flats <br />
like Concords, <br />
bellies pink in the afterglow<br />
and the day surrenders <br />
to the inaccessible nights<br />
<br />
i hear the soft bugle of mates <br />
acquaint the young in grey flannel <br />
with a world made for them,<br />
a singular devotion to an unknown faith<br />
<br />
they tilt wings chosen by angels<br />
and drop their black paddle feet<br />
to the salted beds of resurrection,<br />
the cradle of a just sea <br />
<br />
then the hush of divine stillness<br />
as they rest illumined and infinite<br />
under a moon of countless winters<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pj6JfV-DXag/Tx0bmUgy99I/AAAAAAAAAQU/HZLpvMwRLEk/s1600/DSC_0297b.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="78" nfa="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pj6JfV-DXag/Tx0bmUgy99I/AAAAAAAAAQU/HZLpvMwRLEk/s320/DSC_0297b.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5299204401917298136.post-35799858264008750082012-01-20T00:01:00.000-08:002012-01-20T00:01:31.255-08:00The Blooming Hourfor Mark -<br />
<br />
a tree comes to its treeness<br />
and a star borrows its sparkle<br />
from the sun for you to imagine<br />
<br />
flowers willingly unfold their petals<br />
when the life in them finds<br />
their blooming hour<br />
<br />
and the initiate becomes a shepherd<br />
when he opens his hand to the Earth<br />
when he is called forth<br />
<br />
you have the sight to know the unity<br />
in duality and feel the agony <br />
beneath your feet<br />
<br />
know that the world <br />
gave you a song,<br />
its melodies written only for you<br />
<br />
on the day providence sat with you<br />
by the river and you tasted the silt <br />
from a thousand streams<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0hoe-ngtnDo/TxirOAEZ0vI/AAAAAAAAAQM/54Bccd6Si7M/s1600/00970013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" nfa="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0hoe-ngtnDo/TxirOAEZ0vI/AAAAAAAAAQM/54Bccd6Si7M/s320/00970013.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LJKh35ZVRMg/TxfTysDYgMI/AAAAAAAAAQE/snHAFqez16U/s1600/00770012a.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>Danial Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122962863800369826noreply@blogger.com0