Through the Nights: Allan Briesmaster

I am blest being beside you through the nights.

Housed, fed. No pressing threat. No frivolous wishes.

And without any need to dream of you -

although you grace my dreams from time to time.

We might go on a travelling adventure,

to rediscover some far-different land

that welcomes us again at port and shore.

We celebrated in a sweet embrace there.

But being asleep together is itself

embrace - with its accompanying steady,

near- indiscernible hum of breaths (except

for patchy snoring both can tolerate) -

dissolved from daylight boundaries in this

warm, unimpeded, open-ended flow

while we enwrap within our mutual gift

that self-maintains its effortless repair. 

from Later Findings

Ekstasis Editions Canada, 2024

Later Findings is Allan’s tenth full-length poetry collection.

He lives inThornhill, Ontario with his wife Holly, a visual artist.  

War Is Insane: David Suzuki

 

Photo: Curioso Photography via Unsplash War and climate change fuel a survival-threatening cycle War is insane. Humans spend enormous amounts of money, consume massive resources, develop jaw-dropping technologies, destroy infrastructure and natural areas and kill millions of people, including many non-combatants, often just to stroke the egos of petty power-seeking men. Our killing technologies may have advanced tremendously, but our mindsets haven’t evolved much from 3,000 years ago when Homer wrote his epic story The Iliad, about a bloody battle over perceived loss of “honour” when Paris, prince of Troy, absconded with Spartan king Menelaus’s wife Helen. Wars have since become far costlier, in lives, resources and money, but their justifications seem no less absurd. We often hear how expensive it is to address the climate change and biodiversity loss crises, but it’s a pittance compared to spending on weapons and destruction — and addressing environmental crises is necessary and offers numerous benefits. Wars rarely do any good other than to enrich weapons manufacturers and, now, the fossil fuel industry. Wars rarely do any good other than to enrich weapons manufacturers and, now, the fossil fuel industry. That’s not to say that military and defence spending isn’t sometimes needed. In a world rife with conflicting ideologies and power-hungry leaders, people sometimes have to fight back against those who threaten freedom, democracy and human rights, or who engage in genocidal actions. And militaries often help out in times of disaster, such as hurricanes and other extreme weather–related events. But the overall concept of war is suicidal. It’s a testament to how little our thinking has evolved that we still don’t have better ways to settle differences. Not only do wars prevent us from resolving serious, survival-threatening emergencies such as climate change and biodiversity loss — by sucking up money and resources and prioritizing destruction over problem-solving — they also contribute greatly to those problems. A recent study by researchers in the U.S. and U.K. found greenhouse gas emissions generated during the first two months of the war in Gaza — more than 99 per cent from Israel’s devastating retaliation for Hamas’s brutal October 7 attacks — were greater than the annual emissions of more than 20 of the nations most vulnerable to climate change impacts. Those figures are a significant underestimate, as they’re based on just a few carbon-intensive activities. They include emissions from warplanes, tanks and other vehicles, building and using bombs, artillery and rockets and flying weapons and equipment from the United States to Israel. Other studies show the numbers could be as much as eight times higher if emissions from the entire supply chain were included. Not only do wars prevent us from resolving serious, survival-threatening emergencies such as climate change and biodiversity loss — by sucking up money and resources and prioritizing destruction over problem-solving — they also contribute greatly to those problems. Considering these conservative estimates are from just the first two months of a conflict that has escalated over more than a year, one can only imagine the current toll with Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and the many other conflicts worldwideadded. Although military emissions contribute significantly to global heating, reporting on them is voluntary. They’re mostly kept secret and aren’t included in United Nations climate negotiations. According to the Guardian, “Even without comprehensive data, one recent study found that militaries account for almost 5.5% of global greenhouse gas emissions annually — more than the aviation and shipping industries combined.” The U.S. is one of the largest contributors to overall military emissions, about 20 per cent from protecting oil and gas interests in the Persian Gulf region — which is warming twice as fast as the rest of the inhabited world. Beyond their emissions, military actions and war create a lot of other toxic pollutants. And, the UN reports, “while conflict exacerbates the effects of climate change, climate change, at least indirectly, drives conflict.” Imagine what we could accomplish if all the resources used to kill and destroy went into solving the existential threats we’ve created. David Boyd, UN special rapporteur for human rights and the environment (who has done work for the David Suzuki Foundation), told the Guardian, “This research helps us understand the immense magnitude of military emissions — from preparing for war, carrying out war and rebuilding after war. Armed conflict pushes humanity even closer to the precipice of climate catastrophe, and is an idiotic way to spend our shrinking carbon budget.” Millions of people in the Middle East, Ukraine and around the world are being killed, maimed, orphaned, displaced and starved as a result of war and climate change. Imagine what we could accomplish if all the resources used to kill and destroy went into solving the existential threats we’ve created. We’d better come to our senses before it’s too late. By David Suzuki, with contributions from David Suzuki Foundation Senior Editor and Writer Ian Hanington Read Online Forward this email to a friend Share this story! Support the David Suzuki Foundation Your gift will help push for bold climate action, protect nature so it can sustain all life and create resilient communities that benefit everyone. Donate Today The David Suzuki Foundation is a registered charity in both Canada (BN 127756716RR0001) and the United States (94-3204049). We are located at 340-1122 Mainland Street, Vancouver, B.C., V6B 5L1, and we also have offices in Montreal and Toronto. Please visit our website for more information on how to contact us.

 

Full Moon in Late Winter/First Time: Katherine L. Gordon

 

Full Moon in Late Winter

Like a communion wafer

perfectly round and subtly silver.

I swallow it for transubstantiation.

It is inside my spirit

I am inside its ancient magic

for a transient moment

a piece of immortality,

the sun embraces me

through this deceptive reflection,

transmitted light

I am too frail to seize,

but I carry this moon sphere

into an undiscovered mystery,

a stream of shimmering dreams.

First Time

The first time I heard rattling

on the tin roof of a farm attic

I understood rain:

that tidal tattoo scattering

the clouds of my mind

into a million pilgrim orbs.

Water to awaken, nourish,

explore, imprint.

I became a wildflower.

Katherine L. Gordon

from Awareness Poems

SureWay Press, 2024

Mary's Farm (a poet visits)

Greensides Farm, Marmora

the entrance unpaved

you are greeted by plywood outhouses

the tiny store selling booklets and baubles

beside the buggy swamp

is long closed 

park where you like

the lot is empty

a small farmhouse, weathered picnic tables

rough shed for votive candles  

fields below the wooded hills

are well kept

close mowing reveals tiny strawberries

for feasting birds 

unimpressive, humble

the hordes of worshippers

evaporated with time

and intentional disarray

like a casually unkempt

English garden 

cracked dioramas at the Stations of the Cross 

patiently wait on pilgrim trails in the woods

Mary visits here!

why does She not float daily

above the Vatican?

or even the nearby Catholic church

which doesn’t sanction Her?

Mary must prefer the pure of heart

the simple, the unadorned

unmarred by millennia of human

abuse and misunderstanding 

of Her message and gifts

When young I felt like Basho

returned to meet the light

Now I feel like William Blake

Returned to urge this world to wake

pic from Trip Advisor

Autumn Ducks, Late October: James Deahl

For Raymond Souster

January 15, 1921 - October 19, 2012


Another autumn, and mallards
blanket these secluded waters
of Chipican, sheltered from
the sharp gusts off Lake Huron.

They arrived from up north on their
journey to the Gulf of Mexico.
In afternoon’s sun they bob
on water surrounded by the gold

and burnt red of maples,
the yellows of locusts touched by frost.
All our flowers are finished,
even the brave asters have folded.

You have been gone six years, Ray,
and every year at migration time
your spirit comes on autumn’s wind
with the mallards on their way south.

Ducks tarry on Chipicon, safe
before whisking away as winter
advances with its teeth of ice;
they sanctify each year since you were here.

from Awareness Poems

Katherine L. Gordon and James Deahl

SureWay Press, 2024

Sorrow Falls to Hillview - a fall haibun

I generally don't feel exuberantly creative in my old age, but I still enjoy daily fall hikes where I live on the edge of the Kawartha Lakes region of Ontario. Following is from my 2008 book, ZenRiver: Poems & Haibun. Hidden Brook Press   

Yesterday I felt it was time to revisit our trails. Sorrow Falls is the shortest drive, and it is one of the prettiest and most encouraging of reminiscing for me. It was on the Sorrow Falls trail and at Callaghan’s Rapids Conservation Area that I experienced my return to Buddhism and spirituality four years ago.

It was an overcast day, but within the first one hundred yards a great blue heron rose and flew parallel with our path - a nice omen. The walk continued uneventfully but enjoyably. I inspected my shaman carving on the top railing of the wooden bridge. I had done this carving during a rest stop on one of Chase and my ten mile winter hikes last year.

As always, the trail’s natural calm transmitted to Chase and me, although on the long walk through the cedar forest Chase decided to go on a solo exploration to sniff among the mossy fallen stumps.

redheaded woodpecker

stirs shaman instincts

while Chase explores

After half an hour we reached Sorrow Falls. Beavers had completely cut off the creek’s flow, and the ledges of the falls were exposed. Even the basin was dry. We clambered to the tiny island above the falls, where I’d previously hung prayer flags, and then began walking upstream on the dry creek bed.

dry leaves

fill the basin below

moss-covered falls

  

This is where I found my fish suiseki several years ago. The fallen leaves hid any potential finds, though, and it wasn’t until we were a few yards from the new beaver dam that I found a gorgeous multi-coloured beauty. I lugged it beside the trail where I stashed it for future removal.

I considered turning back at this point, but we decided to continue along the flat section of trail and then began climbing the long slope. At the crest of the hill, in a small clearing to the west, was a frozen whitetail deer. Chase must not be a natural hunter, for he had dashed ahead, and never saw nor winded the deer. I could see the deer’s body and head and even his eyes. After a few seconds, it bounded off.

your white flag

tells us it’s time

to head home

from review of ZR: p&h in World Haiku Review 

Vol. 7 #1. March 2009 by former Haiku Canada

President Terry Ann Carter

 One of the finest haiku in the collection is this one:

dry leaves 

fill the basin below

moss covered falls

With its allusions to opposites (the dry leaves, the waterfall) the presence of absence, the shape of the dry basin clearly outlined against the growing moss covering fallen stumps which gives its own olfactory resonance, this haiku captures an ordinary moment with extraordinary skill.