Tag Archives: poem

The Road Home

  Pavement ends and dust begins, solitude is never convenient. Pot-holed, narrow road, blackberries reclaim what once was their territory, Duck couples bob and paddle in ruts made by exploring 4×4’s, alders reach to conceal telephone poles drunkenly following the … Continue reading

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Looking To The Future

Time for looking back has passed, those stories filed away, regrets and mourning packed up tight there’s no more wreaths to lay. Now is the time to look ahead, new pages turned, love and projects shared, and many new lessons … Continue reading

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Where Is Peace

The whole world is in a mess. Someone always trying to control, keep track, profit from the masses of humanity traveling, line ups, cancellations, homelessness. Rumours of war, paranoia in government, stars falling, hatred, pressure, stress. Where is Hope Where … Continue reading

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Feeling Antsy

Feeling antsy, unsettled, a little down. Too much sugar probably and fretting over family stuff. I know I do not have the power to change any of it. It is what it is and we are who we are. I … Continue reading

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Waiting For You

Mocha meows – 7:30, time to get up. Light the fire, feed, play, empty her en-suite. Six hens cluck at coop doors, wanting scraps, fresh water and morning freedom. Humming bird hovers at the feeder, and Stellar Jay pecks at … Continue reading

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Howe Sound

A sailboat hovers above turquoise green waves then lunges towards dark navy blue. ©Sharron R. McMillan

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Barnabas Landing

Camping spot beside the sea, tents sprout under apple tree. Someone tucks the kids to bed, flocks of geese V overhead. Trails through woodlands to explore, canoe or sail or fish some more, watch the pigs philosophize, lambs graze and … Continue reading

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The Road Home

Brambles crowd the sides of the road, maple and alder compete for space and there, on the left, an out-of-place clearing – someone actually lives out here in the middle of everything. ©Sharron R. McMillan

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I’m Really Not That Old

Depression, despair, hopelessness everywhere, but I experience life in the deep, secret soul of youth where death is for those much older than I. ©Sharron R. McMillan

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Que Sera, Sera

I feel at peace about my decision. Que sera, sera. I do not need to fight what my body needs to do to take me where I need to go. I only pray it will be a peaceful stroll to … Continue reading

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Faith

Faith is the pier-less bridge supporting what we see unto the scene that we do not. ~ Emily Dickinson

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