Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Tag: spirituality

SHOW-STOPPER

9:11pm in New York

9/11 tried to top My Painting

NOTHING

CAN

TOP

Self Organizing Galaxy

SILVER SONG

The Hawk Outpost 8:40am

The Brilliant Sheen

Upon The Water

Fills My Heart & Eyes

I Love It So

It Guides My Way

I Will Sing Of It

Until I Die

SILVER PLAY

The Hawk Outpost 8:35am

The thinnest of Silver Streaks

move over The Water View

from My Kitchen Outpost

The Cloud Cover

lets Them in

along The Horizon

and out to sea

with inward pools of Light

closer to Me

TICKET TO WHERE I AM TODAY

The Hawk Western Hallway 7:25pm

The Sun behind The Fog

is a gleaming disc of Gold

Clouds of Sea Mist

blow across

yet The Sun filters through

& tells Me

broadly

that My Shower Of Silver Lights

is My Ticket

REVELATION 222

The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:22pm

My House is Asylum

My Hands offer Asylum

when placed upon

any body in pain

in fear

In My House, with My Hands

I can cast out

suffering

I can deliver

My Power

into The Hands

of Another

I have The Power

to Heal

I can Heal

My Friends

I can Heal My

Husbands

My Lovers

through

My Dead Brother

& The Deaths of

My Parents

I am Emboldened

I can Heal

This World

through My Art

& My Mind

I can Instruct

Nourish

Tone Down

Play Up

Send Every Body

Home

ABSORPTION

The Hawk Portico 5:15pm

I absorb surf

sounding off

from The Cape

I catch

swells of waves

rushing inshore

filtering through

scrub spruce

across open yards

streaming into My Limbs

to meet My Body’s Core

 

SILVER LIGHT

The Hawk Outpost 9:17am

Silver Light envelopes Me

as I stand before

My Hawk Outpost —

I see The Beads Of Light

on The Laundry Line

& feel the warmth of Sun

shimmering

through My cobwebbed

window

YOUNG GULL

The Hawk Portico 7:40pm

Down by The Guzzle tonight

I saw a young gull

with His breathy Beep – Beep —

He was with a parent gull

presumably

Who flew a few yards off

perhaps because of My proximity —

and Young Gull flew too

and circled overhead, beeping

to land

straight down

beside His Bond

THIS TIME

Barrington Passage 1:16pm

I’ve walked across

My First Fall Leaves

upside down, the leaves

not Me

Oh — not Me — I have

all the tools at My Reach

for The Greatest, Grandest

entry of All —

I have The Seasons

set before Me:

beginning with Autumn

when I laid out My Canvas

on Michael Jackson’s birthday

when I signed My Name on October 10th

when I moved to Nova Scotia

and had My 2.4 Children —

Oh I was happy

until My Mother Died

but then, even then

I had the shock of newness

in The Shower Of Lights

to ponder, to confound everyone

around Me

to culminate in October

the month of My Baby Girl

to release My Self

inside the reassuring caress

of The Littlest Man

to Whom I have linked My Self

in My Mind

for every last season of Fall

 

 

SILENCE NOW

The Hawk Portico 5:47pm

I wonder what happened

to The Clothes I left in Atlantic

when I left My Husband

for Dr Blair —

how long did They stay

in the closet Peter built

— My Shoes —

— I can’t remember

what shoes —

did He take Them

to The Salvation Army?

— but Here —

here on The Hawk

where silence greets Me

from My Red Deck Chair

where I can hear a bird fly

or a neighbour’s flag flap

and the surf, always the surf

— Here I needn’t ask —