These four couplets unfold like stepping stones — small pauses across the quiet waters of loss. Each one holds a moment of recognition, a shift in understanding, a breath before the next step. Paired with Leonard Cohen’s “Teachers,” the poem traces the lessons we never received, and the ones we learn only by walking toward them
Life’s Missing Teacher
I never found a teacher, who taught me how to grieve.
The unforeseen creature was difficult to perceive.
After unplugging her extension cord, time was always near.
While wandering toward the edge of life’s weathered pier.
These images caught my eye today — the sun climbing higher, the trees reaching upward, and the birds carving Bach’s Cello music through the air. They became the foundation of the poem below.
Sun, Trees, and Birds
Like a stab in the dark, Where do I start
Is the sun my spark, Or the trees in the shady park
Talking to the larks Is my trademark
There below the sun’s warm arc, And above the trees’ ritual bark
I hear the birds’ melodious hark, Nature’s own cellist playing Bach
Today’s Throwback poem was written before I started my website and is from June 2012, not long after Carole passed away (14 years ago, May 3rd). For reasons I can’t quite explain, this nostalgic piece never found its way into any of my three books. Maybe this unheralded poem will finally nudge me toward completing my fourth.
Where’s That Dream
I have seen the universe through to the stars beyond There is a deep darkness; she is gone. She is gone I saw her smile crack from the pain There was a sorrow, she caught it tomorrow
I have seen the moon through the burning sun Where is that planet she is walking on? I saw her eyes crying tears of sand Where is that beach she is lying on?
I have seen the ocean through the broken coral Where is that ship she is sailing on? I saw her body serene and frail Where are the ashes she is covered in?
I have seen the earth open, swallowing the multitude whole Where is that chasm she is falling through? I saw her gentle soul disappear out of sight Where is that secret haven she is flying to?
I have seen the land go through violent storms Where are the winds of time she is spread upon? I saw her heart, her love, for all of you and me Where is that dream she has left us to find?
Featured Image Above:The image is a photomontage of my computer desk, a Pandora Box, and my imaginary space craft, ‘ITMIMS’ (Ivor’s Time Machine In Micro Space)
Hello, dear readers and followers. I contribute to Coffee House Writers magazine (USA) every second week, and I’m delighted to share that my latest poem,“Email Overload,” appears in the new issue. You can read it by following the link below. >> Email Overload – Coffee House Writers
There are moments when a song gathers everyone in the room into one breath.Watching “Spirit Bird” live in Brussels, I felt that pull — a reminder that we’ve walked this path before, laughed and cried before, stood on this same wounded ground before. And still, the spirit rises.
Morning’s silent wings keep tracing the same old stories.
“Spirit Bird”
Yes, we’ve seen it all before “Give it time, and we wonder why, do what we can, laugh, and we cry And we sleep in your dust because we’ve seen this all before.” … The finale lyrics from Xavier Rudd’s emotional song “Spirit Bird.”
As the sky deepened to red, the day’s meaning settled softly around us.
Over at Weekly Prompts, it’s the weekend of the month, which means it’s time for the One-Day Prompt. Here in Australia, it’s that One Day of the year when we commemorate ANZAC Day. To visit the Weekly Prompts site, please click on >> Here
Lest We Forget (a Haiku)
Twilight’s blood red sky Quietly reminded us About ANZAC Day
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 