Into the Darkness
Into the winter darkness,
no bleakness nor despair;
an illumination, beneath
the sable sky, laced with tiny lanterns.
Long, night moon’s gentle glow
accompanies our journey;
day’s frenzied energy dissipates.
In evening’s quiet calm,
amidst silent sifting snow,
rose that is the heart opens;
we descend slowly into
the diamond mine of the soul.
Lainie Senechal
Autumn Sunset
Light of the Beginning
“My soul had already brimmed with sunsets…”
-Juan Ramon Jimenez
Light of the beginning
touched the mountains;
touched the houses;
fell from the heavens
like a rush of water
to break into the crystal sea;
entered under the earth
where jewels lie sleeping;
switched on their brilliant sheen;
swept away the darkness
with the force of tornadoes.
This light you filled me;
I became your diamond.
Lainie Senechal
First Snow in Angel Garden
First Snow
On journey home,
prediction of squalls,
as temperature drops with the sun.
Heart jumps!, the first snow!
Rush to door, key turns,
quick kiss on back of hand,
the first snow!
Flick on garden light;
wait for large, white puffs
from an early storm to settle
on grass still green.
Flakes will find a place
among last bloom of rose;
bright nicotianna, innocent of season;
late crythansemum, whose burgundy
petals surround a golden heart.
Mind wanders on early winds;
childhood winters filled with snow.
Sled drawn with sturdy rope,
follows like a puppy to hill
that drops from overpass.
Scale heights to fly
through hole cut in fence.
Sparks ignite along runners;
zip across a small pond,
hope for frozen surface.
Over and over we ascend
and take flight.
Sun long set, by street light
we wind our way home;
covered in frost and ice,
half snow creatures, cold
beyond belief, near collapse,
as artic explorers on tundra
searching for shelter.
Warm glow of fire dries
mittens, hats, scarves, boots,
socks and layers of clothing;
settle under thick quilts,
as snow resumes falling,
through the night, to refresh
our winter playground.
Lainie Senechal
Oak Leaves
Photosynthesis
(A Thanksgiving Poem)
It is our tradition to gather as family
to renew and celebrate our bond;
to offer a prayer to the spirit
that connects heaven and earth.
For we are bound, not only
to each other, to elements
of the universe: sun and moon,
our brother and sister;
fruits of trees, grasses of prairies
nourish and sustain us.
They transform energy of stars
into sustenance of life
and through our veins pulses
the heat of cosmic creation.
Lainie Senechal
November
Low beams of light
shimmer in leaves;
flutter of canaries’ wings,
bristle of fox fur.
Even the tamarack
has traded its green innocence
for a tattered coat of burnt umber.
You arrive with your flattery,
your sultry songs, where
buffleheads dive and bob
among wind-driven wavelets
that spark in the sun.
I have no choice but to
succumb to your charms.
Lainie Senechal