Was

depth of field photography of mallard duck on body of water

Was
He stood on the snow-covered rocks,

watching the three little ducks swim.
Taking turns, diving under the cold lake.
Like children, indulging a dare on a whim.
He was content. Was smiling inside.
Simple emotions were welling to the brim.
More certain that he was almost all the way back.
He was wishing that it was him.

He was standing there, contently entranced.
Soaking in every detail that he could find.
He was feeling the tension of his heartstrings
as they slowly stretched to unwind.
It was not all that long ago, really.
He was adrift, floating away from his mind.
Just then, he was suddenly overwhelmed.
Was remembering, all that he’d left behind…

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He remembered when he was entirely sunken
In the darkest depths of his own despair
Was held under by his own helplessness
Was fighting, for any small gasp of air
Was beside himself, flailing with his lonely soul
Unable to breathe, or even to care
Was looking, around himself, at nothing
Was alone, and wanting no one else there

He was lost, slowly drowning in constant doubt
Submerged, below the murky surface of his worry
Hearing only that incessant, dissenting voice
It was the sound and the resound of the fury
As he finally, desperately, managed to look only up
It was through eyes so tired and blurry
He was doubtful he could get all the way there
He was certain that he had to hurry

He began the ascent, from his abyss of self-pity
Was no more time he could waste on reflecting
He was towing his lessons, out of this depression
Through all of the shame and the blame deflecting

Was willing his load, upward, determined to make it
 He was far more buoyant than he was expecting
With his sole motivation, his self-preservation
He surfaced, with the self he was neglecting

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He had willed himself up and out, onto solid ground.
Had saved his heart and his soul from dying.
If he said that he was completely free of the pain,
they both would know he is lying.
Yet he is getting ever closer to leaving it all behind.
Is going to be himself again. There is no denying.
He is inspired, and required, to get all the way there.
 And he is sure going to live trying…

He was going to stand here for a while more.
And only then would he continue his run.
Transfixed as he was by the three ducks.
Still having their own carefree, unique fun.
He wants nothing more than to bask in this feeling.
It is his head. It is his heart. Together as one.
He finally manages to pull his eyes away.
He is met by the warmth of the sun.

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Fíon

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Fíon

Two glasses of red

  A night filled with stars
The sky shimmering
  over the quiet lake
Too long since
we had a night like this
  Moonlight reflecting
  each sip we take

Our lives move along
like the gentle breeze
Our hearts require
more nights like these

Two glasses of red
 The night finally ours
Time spent embracing
the life we share
Too long since
we had a night like this
Moonlight enhancing
our why and where

Our lives move along
like waves to the shore
So raise your glass
and I’ll pour us more

Wakefield

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Wakefield
A small village
A huge heart
A desperate family
A new start

Perogies, and perspective
New friends, community, drinks
The comfort in knowing
What the best in us thinks
—–

Live music for what ails me,
My spirit needing a lift
The Black Sheep beckoned
My own pre-Christmas gift

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A Weber Brother’s Christmas’…
That had to be good for my soul
I was alone, and a few hours early
 So, it would be fresh air and a stroll
—–

Intending to bide some time,
I curiously opened your door
Just looking for a unique pint
What I found,  was far more

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At first, it was exactly what I wanted
A small crowd, and ‘Perogy Night’!
Easing into the Kaffé 1870 atmosphere
Something about it, feeling just right

It didn’t take very long, however
The numbers began to grow
For live music and a fundraiser
More and more locals, I came to know

Photos Andre Forget

Kaffé 1870, Wakefield for Refugees
An awaiting host, a timely cause

A community coming together
Just like that, and just because

Words from the dedicated organizers,
A gregarious councillor, made everyone smile
The people, the closeness, the obvious warmth
My trip, already, well worth its while

Photos Andre Forget

It would become hard for me to leave
‘Godknowswhat’ was sublime
Extremely accomplished musicians
Donating their talent, and their time

I couldn’t count all of the terrific chats
I had found, in just a few hours
But, what I will never underestimate
Is community, and its obvious powers

Wakefield for Refugees sign showing $30,000 raised.

Seeing the good in so many people
And knowing, when I hear it
Experiencing your generosity

And sharing in your spirit

A raffle ticket, some Bean Fair coffee,
For my table, another round 
I had donated, but felt like the recipient
As I departed, Black Sheep bound
—–
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Two Weber hours later
After another fantastic show
It was time for me to leave
But, I didn’t really want to go

Reflecting, smiling again,
And thinking, alone in my car
About an extremely fortunate family
About just how lucky they are

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Heading home, yet feeling closer
Invigorated, inspired, alive
Accompanied by this community
For my two-hour drive

Kaffé 1870, and The Black Sheep,
The warmest of patrons, and cold beer
And Wakefield, I am grateful
That circumstance brought me here
—–

Perogies, and perspective
New friends, community, drinks

The comfort in knowing
What the best of us thinks

A close community
An open heart
A fortunate family
A new start

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