For my youngest brother, Ian
In
the magic meadow of my youth
Tall grasses grow, birch and sumac glow,
Crab apples cook in sweet October's sun,
Cornflowers call out concerning blue jays,
Bearing messages from other better days.
Bullrushes prosper, bare bushes prickle,
Muddy footprints bring back where I belong
This path took me too many times
to count
Through canopies of trees and
deep designs,
A place between the House Where Hunger Dwelt
And Hutton School, where once a clear stream ran
And strawberry fields captured our delight,
Before filling stations, fast food, the Blight [1],
Fall to high rises, follies for these times
Here in a little wood faeryland lived
on,
Trolls, imps and elves looked out from gnarled trunks
And gnomes came out to play, remember them?
Here high hopes took shape despite depressions,
Whispers of adventure lifted the heart
And though suburban housing closes in
And fences cast shadows on holy ground
The magic of the place holds true
The meadow a measure of my love
I did not find my wild pear tree
there today
No doubt it found a place in paradise with Pan
But a blue jay called and a train passed by
Though little brother could not come with me
He wanders in a deep forest of despair
But I will take him there tomorrow, someday, soon
We will fly this magic carpet of
desire
Stretch hands high to take what life has given
That little golden apple left on a spindly tree
A perfect metaphor for our immortality
He will smile like he did so long ago
When we wondered in this meadow all aglow
With the nature of God, the mystery of All
Responding to the universal spiritual call
All this and more the meadow speaks
to me
Before it dies to be reborn elsewhere
Preserve me well within your inner eyes
Plant me where'er you go, wild and free
[1] Since the writing
of this poem in October 1996, developers finally dismantled the remnants of
this 'meadow of my youth' in London, Ontario.The Nature Spirits have fled, the
Elementals vow revenge..there is so much work to be done to save such magical
places...