A Believer's Journal

Her name means Radiant One
Bright and brilliant and exuberant
Blazing orb at the center
Of her own universe
Our bodies and hearts bound
                        in her orbit.

Her name could mean Eccentric One
Odd and abstruse and outlandish
Baffling behaviors defying explanation
Compulsive routines taxing toleration
Our bodies and hearts bewildered
                       by her id.

Her name should mean Indefatigable One
Tireless and tenacious and temerarious
Jumping in with all four feet
Sprinting, bounding, leaping, flying
Our bodies and hearts drained
                       by her zeal.

Her name means Radiant One
Bodacious and beautiful and beguiling
Commanding our complete attention
Even is spite of ourselves
Our bodies and hearts utterly ensnared
                       by her charms.

Her name is Eilidh

Ungainly and unperturbed
Amidst croppings of fuchsia heather
Solitarily standing on spindly salmon legs
Sprouting from a squat white breast
Improbable orange beak
Highlighted against the cobalt sea
Unblinking claret eye
Nearly invisible against its coal black head
Preternaturally perched atop an elongated neck

The isle is yours as well as mine
Each of us blessed and a blessing
An I mo chridhe, I mo ghraidh

Somnambulant rocket ships
Poured down my throat
Stick like pins
Before bursting into unquenchable flame.

Somnambulant butterflies
Twitter on Elon Musk’s nose
Restoring order to this
Fractious folly.

Somnambulant terrapins
Strictly following orders
Fastidiously dying
One by one by one.

Somnambulant oboists
Iridescent against the crimson sky
Bursting boundaries
Like bouncing billiard balls.

Somnambulant mysterium
Creeping along the edges
Flooding the universe
With ineffable grace.

Somnambulant rocket ships
Twitter on Elon Musk’s nose
Fastidiously dying
Like bouncing billiard balls.

Somnambulant butterflies
Strictly following orders
Bursting boundaries
With ineffable grace.

Somnambulant terrapins
Iridescent against the crimson sky
Flooding the universe
Before bursting into unquenchable flame.

Somnambulant oboists
Creeping along the edges
Stick like pins
Fractious folly.

Somnambulant mysterium
Poured down my throat
Restoring order to this
One by one by one.

still
implausibly, exquisitely
still

en pointe
a vivified Michelangelo
poised, erect
ineffably elegant and
still

en pointe
a golden vision
descending the stair
gliding, floating
utterly entrancing
ever advancing but
still

en pointe
alongside her prince
commanding the stage
as time and space stand
still

still
wondrously, breathtakingly
still

Month most maligned
Caught between seasons
Neither winter nor spring
Lacking the best of either
Displaying the worst of both

Or perhaps that is its glory
Being not one thing or the other
But itself, juncture of memory and promise
Consecrating cherished experience
Anticipating unfolding beauties

Being seventy is like March
Caught between seasons
Neither young nor old
Expecting to do what body refuses
Resisting the repose from which mind recoils

Or perhaps that is its glory
Being not one thing or the other
But itself, juncture of memory and promise
Consecrating cherished experience
Anticipating unfolding beauties

Tobias Bartlett was his name
A name he proudly bore
Our household never was the same
After he came through the door.

A leaper he and so much more
He flew with astounding grace
So nimbly springing from bedroom floor
To eagerly lick my face.

He was my partner on many a hike
From Acadia to Downeast
There wasn’t a trail he didn’t like
His energy never ceased.

A Wildcat traverse was not the least
Of all the mountains climbed
Its rugged steeps his joy released
His ardor so sublime.

One time I lost him on Blue Hill
The ledges were too near
Toby “Come” I called and again but still
No Toby did appear.

I descended without him filled with fear
My heart within me pounded
My hope for finding my dog so drear
When down the trail he bounded.

We went away for about a week
Left Toby with a friend
And when we returned one leg was weak
His paw it wouldn’t mend

His plight I could not apprehend
Why suddenly so lame
But brave and sweet until the end
My Toby just the same.

Tobias Bartlett was his name
A name he proudly bore
Our household never was the same
After he came through the door.