She lets me put violets in her hair,
good-humouredly, calls me Ophelia
in such a way that I spout, But Shakespeare
pushed war, not love. Resplendent, Thalia
strolls the peaceful paths of Victoria Park,
taken with the interplay of people,
the signs of change, bridges like love at work;
Often, her hands become divine steeples
of calm prayer. Yet there is imminence
heard in fervencies, a tremendous will
wrought with words of truth and tolerance
that dare to preserve all that is spiritual.
Three share our views in comfortable silence,
Me, hope and a Goddess of Non-Violence.
*Written for a truly delightful and inspiring friend, Catie Lindsay, whose kindness
blends with ardent beliefs in wondrous poems
I am ever moved by her amity and wisdom. Such a BLESSING you are to soup.
I, too, believe there are a million doors in God's house, no matter which name
you know Him or Her by.
Catie, I HAD to take you to the Nonviolence Festival in Kitchener Park, held annually
in the summer where people express one thing: a desire for global peace, acceptance,
compassion and servitude.
A blog will follow, soon, but