Mermaid’s Dreams

Dreams have finally returned to me…

We met again last night
You slipped quietly into mind’s view
A shadowed goodness, a friendly idea
I’m surprised to see you here

Subconscious is a capricious destination
Images confounding, conflicting
Sometimes horrific, sometimes healing
Would I could hold the words they conjure

Capricorn and Cancer
In the early days
I joked that
Together we made mud

I am a fearsome Dual Cap
Born on a cusp
Just like a wave
A fey and fluid mermaid
Unmindful of the tempest
Fearless and surefooted
At the heights

You almost impenetrable
Gruff, Guarded
Until the shell cracked
And the pearl revealed
In truth you were
My faithful shore
A place of safety
Where I could throw
The storm-tossed waves of me
Onto your sturdy beach

Stability, my island
Is what you were to me
And it seems in these
Golden years that should
Be together but are not
You still feel like shelter to me

The final shriek and howl
Red skies at morning
Left me dashed, broken, bashed
In an unknown place
You scattered with detritus
Of a ship run aground
A spiteful hurricane
Spun our world’s axis
Like a child’s top
The Coriolis effect
Recharted our lives

In dreams, the world is set to rights. Different but calm, zephyr winds and blue skies…

The ocean rhythm that
Pulses still in my veins
Is irrevocably drawn back
Calmer now but like the tide
Under the moon’s guidance
Drawn back to a less craggy
Weathered and yet enduring place

In dreams you are still the steady and everlasting shore
I feel your calming presence though we are no more
Ever my siren heart’s cove you are it seems
Respite from all these storms if only in dreams

~ kei
18 July 2015

For Richard. Who I never wrote for because we were busy living the words.

Sad Mermaid

A Different View

Will you never speak?
Time is rushing forward
These misread signs
This collection of miscues

Do you prefer this view?
You once saw my soul
Now I’m pinned to a slide
Under a clinician’s gaze

I feel so exposed
This inverted image
Leaves me more naked
Than my words ever could

Through pixel’d windows
I lay myself bare
Starting fires with kindle
Of memory, desire, despair

You remain cold and aloof, beyond my reach
Unknowable behind your virtual eyepiece
While I look back, through my kaleidoscope view
And my heart weeps for the ardent boy I once knew

~ kei
16 June 2015

Through the glass inverted...

Through the glass inverted…


I’ve been trying to come to terms with the crash that occurred this Wednesday past between an OC Transpo bus and a VIA Rail train. It happened about 10 minutes from where I live and work in the early morning rush hour.

I heard the emergency vehicles go out, sirens wailing, but that isn’t so very unusual. It’s only in retrospect that I realize there were more than what you’d expect to hear for the fender benders, barbecue fires and cats up trees that are the usual reason.

Six people died. Six. In a little city like ours, where so many of us take the bus everyday, this is almost unfathomable.

We all of us are taking this personally. I’ve been a “bus person” all my life by choice. Ottawa is a “green” city and OC Transpo has in the past been known as the best bus service in North America. We’re a Government town so a large segment of the population makes the daily commute from the ‘Burbs to downtown offices. Me? I got my first bus pass with my first full time job. My Dad was a bus commuter, determined to keep his “Betsey” of the moment in pristine condition. My friends, my kids, my nieces… all regular riders.

I can’t help but think “There but for the grace of a higher power go I” or someone I love…

This has put many things in perspective for me. I’ve been going through a personal crisis that has consumed my thoughts in the past couple weeks. The tenuous threads that bind people and events though, have helped me to pull my head out of my arse, as it were.

I’m not dead. No one that I know and love in my immediate circle, was lost in this horrific collision. It has touched me deeply and personally in that, I know I’ve been a passenger on a bus that Dave drove at least once and my cousin Matt – City of Ottawa Police Force – was a First Responder. Even knowing that Karen was a fellow knitter and Ottawa Knitting Guild member with two children, makes me pause. I didn’t know any of these folks other than Matty, who ironically I don’t talk to all that much except for family get togethers and yet I’d called him just the night before for his steady advice.

What’s my takeaway from this? The same lesson that we’ve all heard so many times and in so many different ways:

Life is too short to hold grudges, to not love and dream, to be angry, to not try, to self-harm, to give in to depression… to not live.

I will survive. I will carry on. I will acknowledge this stumble in my life and I will learn and grow from it. I am alive.

Life is a gift.

I’m going to live mine.