The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice-
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do-
determined to save
the only life you could save.

-Mary Oliver

on birthdays eve

Here is the poem Bethany gave me for my birthday:

Grown-Up

Was it for this I uttered prayers,

And sobbed and cursed and kicked the stairs,

That now, domestic as a plate,

I should retire at half-past eight?

Disclaimer:  I should hope to always keep the wonder of a child with me, to find joy in the little things, to not dismay when grown-up reponsibilites take root and to always remember to dance and play. Life is really too short to be only grown-up and no child.

1 am

dear life

I have not squandered you

you still stand as though transfixed

by what has been done and what will be

dear sky

I have not reached your limit

you still beckon me

limitless endless then and now

dear God

you have not deserted me

my darkest moments still sing You

You permeate my deepest longing

And when I am weeping

I am ripe

If I had grown in some generous place-

if my hours had opened with ease-

I would make you a lavish banquet.

My hands wouldn't clutch at you like this,

so needy and tight.

Then I'd have dared to squander you,

you Limitless Now.

I'd have tossed you into the ringing air

like a ball that someone leaps for and catches

with hands outstretched.

I would have painted you:  not on the wall

but in one broad sweep across heaven.

I'd have portrayed you brashly:

as mountain, as fire, as a wind

howling from the desert's vastness.

-Rainer Maria Rilke

in winnipeg

I feel you as I feel the cold

close and crinkling up my spine

my song is life

I sung it in the dark

and the world moved to the sound

The Office...Part 2

The other day the guy from my office who calls me Allison walked by my desk. Now the receptionist who is usually here is the daughter of the President of the company, so this guy comes up to me and asks,

"Allison, who's daughter are you?"

"I'm no one's daughter," I replied.

Realizing that my last comment sounded ridiculous I corrected myself,
"I mean to say, I'm no one's daughter here, and my name's not Allison."

"What?" He asks incredulous. "It's not?"

"No, it's Laura."

"But I've been calling you Allison all this time."

"yeah".

"Well..." he says slowly, as though pondering this concept, "Have a good weekend...Laura."

For the next several days every time he would walk by my desk he would say with zest and valour,

"Have a good day...Laura." Or "Weather looks great...Laura." He was so proud...so assured, but then something awful happened. Yesterday he walked by my desk saying,

"Good morning Faye."

He hurried away looking a little ashamed of himself, and I believe though he couldn't quite put his finger on it, he knew my name was not Faye. Needless to say, he almost got it right.

The Office...

Everyday at the office one of the guys here at Regal Energy walks past my desk and says,

"Good morning Allison", so confidently assured that that is my name.

I never introduced myself as Allison, I've never been called Allison, and I certainly am not an Allison. I haven't corrected him yet because he walks past my desk before I can get a word in. However it is only getting worse. It seems he wants to utter the name, "Allison" whenever he walks by me now, even if he's just making a comment about the weather. For example:

"It's a beautiful day out there Allison."

"Enjoy your weekend Allison."

"I'm leaving now Allison." etc. etc.

Whatever put the notion into his head that my name is Allison? And how can I put a stop to something that is already snow-balling out of control? To correct him now would seem...cruel.