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Sunday, September 5, 2021

Fauna at the River

six herons

four gulls

one hawk

hummingbirds

chickadees that take seed from my hand

if I stand

goldfinches

chipmunks ballooning their cheeks

with peanuts

red squirrels

muskrat silently swimming

beaver mating in their lodge

heedless of our silent canoe's approach

deer

bear

smallmouth bass waiting for our worms

on the floor of the slow-moving river

pickerel

and loons calling, calling, calling

 
 
 
Copyright © 2021 Ann Tudor
Musings blog: http://www.scenesfromthejourney.blogspot.com
Audible.Ca: go to https://www.audible.ca and search for Ann Tudor
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Sunday, August 29, 2021

The Things I Never Did

How I miss the things I never did.

I remember an offer I declined

because it might have

projected me into some unknown

(and thus terrifying) future.

I might have met Dolly Parton.

She might have gifted me with

a hand-me-down wig.

Some agent would (might) have heard me

casually yodeling

as I went about my work

and there, in a lightning flash,

my life would (might) have taken

a new direction.

 

Do I miss that possibility?

I said I did, at the start of this poem.

But it isn't true.

I look back

on that life not lived,

that fork not taken,

and I feel myself accompanied,

even now,

by the friendly ghost of my other self.

 

I wonder how many similar forks

I encountered,

how many forks where I chose left

instead of right

(or vice versa),

and I honour

those forgotten unlived lives.

 

 
Copyright © 2021 Ann Tudor
Musings blog: http://www.scenesfromthejourney.blogspot.com
Audible.Ca: go to https://www.audible.ca and search for Ann Tudor
Audible.Com: go to https://www.audible.com and search for Ann Tudor




 

Sunday, August 22, 2021

Thoughts for Eeyores and Others

Time wounds all heels.

We can but hope.

While we're waiting for time

to do its durndest, however,

let us remember that life is adventure,

not predicament,

not catastrophe.

We might all benefit

from inscribing this thought on our hearts.

 

The Eeyores, for example,

who never met a situation

that wasn't a predicament.

Likewise the why-me crowd.

In my dotage (in my elderhood, I mean to say)

I find myself screaming

(internally, of course)

"Suck it up, you molly-coddlers!"

 

I've wandered from the topic here,

which was the mild suggestion that a simple shift

in point of view could reap

whirlwinds of change.

Life is adventure

(to be sought and embraced)

not a predicament from which to be extricated.

 

What trauma was the origin of the

"predicament" mindset?

Doesn't matter.

I need to shift to let it go.

Adventures R Us from here on.

Maybe.

 

 
Copyright © 2021 Ann Tudor
Musings blog: http://www.scenesfromthejourney.blogspot.com
Audible.Ca: go to https://www.audible.ca and search for Ann Tudor
Audible.Com: go to https://www.audible.com and search for Ann Tudor