Good morning all. It is a sunny, crisp winter day in Southern Ontario and everything is sparkling.
Today I bring you the last part of the Barbara Crooker/Irene Miller poetry/photography duet. It has been a pleasure to bring together the works of these two talented creatives and I hope that perhaps they have inspired you to pick up pen or camera (or paint brush or video camera). We welcome new submissions all the time.
If you want to learn more about Barbara and read more of her poetry, please check out her website at http://www.barbaracrooker.com
To see more of Irene’s photography you can find her at http://www.imillerphoto.com
Please see the Ultra Sounds Mondays archives on the left for the first three parts of this series.
by Barbara Crooker
It is early March, each day a little bit greener,
crocus and snowdrops already in bloom, daffodils
sending up the tips of their spears.
When summer comes, we will take you to the river,
trickle your ashes through our fingers.
You will return to us in rain and snow,
season after season, roses, daisies, asters,
chrysanthemums. Wait for us on the other side.
The maple trees let go their red-gold leaves in fall;
in spring, apple blossoms blow to the ground
in the slightest breeze, a dusting of snow.
Let our prayers lift you, small and fine as they are,
like the breath of a sleeping baby. There is never
enough time. It runs through our fingers like water
in a stream. How many springs are enough,
peepers calling in the swamps? How many firefly-spangled
summers? Your father is waiting on the river bank,
he has two fishing poles and is baiting your hook.
Cross over, fish are rising to the surface,
a great blue heron stalks in the cattails,
the morning mist is rising, and the sun is breaking
through. Go, and let our hearts be broken.
We will not forget you.
ON THE RIVERBANK
by Irene Miller