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Friday, December 18, 2009

Inunnguaq - A Poem


            Inunnguaq 
 

Moss,
whispers of hidden waterfalls


a sleepy Inunnguaq shifts petals of granite specks
into my sight
 

seconds swim by – captives in an insect eye,
a rift of indecision, a calm bequathed in off-white
colors.

I am at a  crossroad.
The Inunnguaq smiles, perched on the axis of its movement.

I’m trekking north towards the pole, without a compass, 

eye on the weathervane of lakes and forests swirling in the hail,
led by the shadow of the snow sphinx,


- an Inunnguaq.


Saturday, December 12, 2009

Inukshuk Poem - A Heart Beat


                                      A poem for teens.


                           Inukshuk - A Heart Beat




A dwarf in the grass
- an inukshuk of granite rocks.

A transparent lake hovers by, linked to a cloud.

Still, dark maple leaves balance the hour
on green, infinite stilts.

The man without face, a vibration of stone
slicing the air on angled ledges at dusk,
governs the road ahead,
into the labyrinth of an hour-glass.

Each shard of stone is a grain of sand,
A trickling of seconds in a murmuring time,

Lit up by the lantern of his eye.

He measures me up as I travel alone
towards valleys and peaks,
he measures me up, half-asleep,

as I pass him by, in between muffled heart beats.

Inuksuk, Inukshuk , Inunnguaq




Inuksuk, Inukshuk , Inunnguaq


Westbound on the 401, I caught a glimpse of an inukshuk
right at the tip of the fusing asphalt lane.

Over my right shoulder
in the boreal green haze of the mid-June afternoon,
suspended on heaps of granite rocks,

amid the fumes of the drizzle evaporating & eroding the air.

A cairn in the shape of a faceless man,
a tentative ledger in lieu of shoulders, balancing the weight of a larger burden
made of quartz and limestone:

his identity.

Seized up in a stone soliloquy
the inukshuk’s precarious balance
reached out to me,
in the fast  counterpoint of the advancing day.

The faceless man
asked me who I was on this road.

Whose words did I hold on my own terrace of songs?

Thirty miles east of Kingston –
 & the question followed me home,
among the curving boughs of the road

filled with looming maple shades and white poplar fluff
carried by winds to glacial and oblivious lakes.
 

The question stands – who am I?

Inuksuk, Inukshuk , Inunnguaq.

Inukshuk - A Poem for Students and Children

                 A poem for students and children. 


                  Inuksuk 

                              
I have heard you murmuring a story to the robin,
whistling it rather ,
among rustling maple leaves.

I have seen you shifting
the balance of your shoulders at dawn, 

when clouds move like small pebbles at the bottom of a creek,   
snaking out towards rivulets in the sky.  

I have felt your joy – your skin made of rock
caressed my palms through snow
and early morning mists crawling across the stillness of the lake.

Your faceless head rested over my shoulder
when you were sad.

We were once one and the same, my inukshuk friend.

Time has given us different shapes.
Cast in stone, you keep the roads safe.

Alive and restless, I write about your dreams. 
 
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