From a high vantage

From a high vantage
I scour the world below
Seeking the scattered points of reference
By which I’ll find my way
When I visit the low ground

Presence

There are people who’ve come through my life
Some I’ve held onto
Some, I’ve let go
Some slipped quietly into the past

But they’ve all touched me
I would not be who I am
Without their influence

A setting sun
Illuminates existence
So that its divinity
Is apparent
To even the most ardent atheist

Waiting out the rain
She hunkers down
In the narrow dryness
Of a doorway’s eaves

On her way
To Hanoi’s mobile market
A vibrant gesticulation
Of colour and sass
Gentle salesmanship
And meagre means

I keep in my heart
In my mind
In my spirit

The possibility
Of the impossible

Sometimes, there is beauty
In a moment
Which takes my breath away

As if touched by divinity

Mountains
Ablaze
Smoking

Flight
Water
Fighting

Red Sky and Rainbow
Bringing much needed rainfall
To Alberta badlands
And dinosaur bones

When water runs
It eats away the earth
Cutting facets
Like crystal
Above the dry valley
They call Death

Thus they shone
Close to bone
A feat not
Taken lightly

Until
The rain
Did fail